Anything, but Ordinary: Bovver
by Little Miss Bovver
Summary: It's just a normal evening for Bovver, until he bumps into somebody who is anything, but ordinary, and his world changes forever. Contains the usual swearing and violence.
1. Punch

**AUTHORS NOTES: Stupidly short chapter, but this really sets the scene for the next chapter, because like before, i had written chapter two as chapter one, and decied to write another chapter one, so it made sense. Thanks for reading and please review!**

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Anything, but Ordinary

Chapter One

Punch

'Come on then you cunt!' yelled Swill, jumping up and down in his excitement. A brick was hurled his way and he narrowly dodged it. 'You gunna use your fucking fists now or 'as mummy not taught you how?' he taunted, as a stick hit his chest. He ran forwards, slamming his fist into Andrey's nose. Blood was splattered across his fist, and as the guy fell, he stamped on his wrist. There was a crack. The GSE were fighting the Blackburn Rover's firm, and even though they were outnumbered 2:1, they were beating the shit out the Rovers. Bov dodged a vicious right-hook from a scrawny kid who seemed merely 19, and kicked his knee. The boy gave a cry of pain, and fell to the floor. Ned was getting pinned to the wall, and he kicked out blindly. Bov hurled himself over there, slamming a fist in the face of the man. Ned gave a small grin of thanks, before darting off after another guy. There was blood everywhere, and Bov's jaw ached horrible. Suddenly, someone came up behind him, and Bov turned. A fist hit out in his eye, the ring cutting open the side of his eye.

'Shit!' he yelled, covered that eye and kicking the man back, in the stomach. Half his vision was now blurred with blood. In a flash, he had uppercutted the man, who stumbled backwards over someone else, hitting the floor hard. Andrey scrambled to his feet, and hurried backwards, trying to get out of there as Pete was hot on his trail.

'Come on guys!' he yelled hoarsely, and the others gave up their last punches before admitting defeat.

'Yes!' cried Swill, watching the hurried, retreating backs of the others. Dave climbed off his knees, coughing as he did so.

'You 'right there, Bruv?' asked Bov. Dave nodded, too winded to talk.

'Some geezer got him in the chest,' said Ike, for him. Dave nodded, shutting his eyes as he steadied his breathing. Bov touched his eye, wincing as it throbbed.

'Come on lads. Let's get cleaned up,' said Pete. Dave straightened up, putting his arm over Swill's shoulders.

'Good fight mate,' he gasped. Swill nodded, looking proud of himself. Dave gave a weak chuckle, as they rounded the corner, and climbed into the van.

'Bagsie, shotgun, turn around, touch the ground, Bagsie driving!' shouted Swill, climbing into the drivers seat before anyone could say anything. Pete laughed, as he climbed in next to him. Once everyone was buckled in, Swill squealed around the corner, narrowly missing a wheelie bin, and sped off down the road.

* * *

'What's woolly and has four legs?' Swill asked the nurse, as she cleaned his lip. She raised an eyebrow.

'Go on.'

'A sheep!' he grinned. Pete shook his head, laughing. Swill had been trying to chat up this nurse for the last year, and his attempts were getting lamer and lamer. Bov looked at the butterfly stitches in the mirror, as Swill continued with his jokes.

'What did Batman say to Robin, before Robin got into the car?'

'Go on,' she sighed again, placing the cotton wool aside.

'Robin, get in the car!' The nurse gave a small laugh, and patted his cheek.

'And even after all that, I still won't go out with you.' And with that, she left the room. Swill gave a groan.

'That's not fair! I've not been laid in two months,' he grumbled, sliding off the chair. Bovver rolled his eyes.

'And you think you will with those jokes?' he asked, as he led the way out the room. Dave patted his shoulder.

'Well, there's always the receptionist.' They looked over at her. She had a shock of ginger hair that was styled as if it was the 80's. Her glasses were thick, and she was about 10 stone overweight. Swill cringed.

'I'll keep with my hand, thanks.' Bovver checked his watch. It was 7.00pm. Beer time.

'Let's get to the Abbey. And, no Swill. You're not driving.' Swills face fell.

'Why not?!'

'Cos you almost killed us last time, you cunt,' agreed Ike, as they moved through the car park, towards the white van they rented out for matches. It didn't take long to get to the pub. Ike drove fast, but thankfully safely and they arrived outside, unharmed. Bov jumped out, pushing open the door to the Abbey. It was like a second home to him. It wasn't just the beer that drew him in, but the fact that whenever he dropped in here, the boys who were so close to him, almost family, would always be here too. Bov smiled, as he pushed himself towards the bar. Terry grinned when he saw them making their way over. 'Seven Fosters please,' asked Dave, pulling out a couple of notes.

'I want some crisps too!' piped up Ned.

'And some crisps' added Dave. Terry poured the drinks, and chucked the crisps at Ned. They took their drinks and moved towards their usual table. It was always empty. People knew it was their table. Swill took his corner seat, licking the head from the beer.

'Now, this is just perfect!" he beamed, drinking from the glass. When he pulled the beer away, he had a moustache. Dave rolled his eyes, as he rubbed his jaw.

'It still hurts,' he moaned. 'I'm going to look like shit tomorrow.' Pete smiled, as Bov swallowed his Fosters. Swill placed his empty glass down, and climbed onto his chair.

'I'm forever blowing bubbles!' Bov grinned, climbing onto his chair, and then onto the table.

'Watch my crisps!' scowled Ned. The others joined in the song.

'Pretty bubbles in the air. They fly so high. They reach the sky, and like my dreams, they fade and die! Fortunes always hiding, I've looked everywhere. I'm forever blowing bubbles! Pretty bubbles in the air!' The group gave a loud cheer at the end.

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**END NOTES: I wonder how many readers are sat there now saying, 'Ooh i'll shag Swill, pick me !' ;) Heh, you know who you are!**


	2. Green Eyed Girl

**AUTHORS NOTES: Enjoy and review :) **

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Anything, but Ordinary

Chapter Two

Green eyed girl

Bov stood on the table, where he and the boys from the GSE were sat, singing his heart out. '…I'm forever blowing bubbles! Pretty bubbles in the air! United! United! United!' It was the night after the win against Blackburn Rovers and their firm. Stupid cunts. They came at us and came at us, and every fucking time we beat them back. Did they ever learn? Bov jumped down from the table, hugging Pete Dunham tightly. A win was always a glorious time for them. 'What you drinking?' Bov asked, pulling a fiver out his pocket.

'Fosters,' answered Pete, taking his seat. Bov turned to go, and Dave shouted out, 'Oi, wait son!' Bov turned, taking the other fiver from the older man, and taking his order as well. Carling, with two bags of salted peanuts. Bov rolled his eyes. Dave and his peanuts. On his way to the bar, Bovver collided with a young woman. Her green eyes flashed with anger as she looked up at him.

'Watch it, love.' He grumbled. The woman glared.

'You banged into me,' her voice was low and dangerous, and she reminded Bov slightly of a wild cat. He felt a little taken aback. She was in a thin t-shirt, and his eyes widened slightly when they wandered to the deep cuts and scars on her arms.

'What happened to your arms?' Bov asked, even though it didn't really need a genius to figure it out. She shook her head.

'What?'

'What happened to your arms?' Bov repeated. He saw her blush deeply, before shouldering past him to a lonely table at the back. But Bovver was intrigued. Who was this green eyed, black hair, self harming woman? But then there was a nudge behind him.

'Come on son, I'm starving,' muttered Dave. Bov nodded, and moved forward towards the bar. He ordered the drinks, and moved swiftly back to his table.

'I'll be back in a moment,' he murmured to Pete, before moving through the crowds, towards that table. She looked so lost, as she tugged on her hoody. Bov felt an unusual urge to look after her. He shook his head softly, as she raised the glass to her lips. Bov scraped the chair away from the table and sat down beside her. 'Sorry 'bout earlier,' He said to her. She blinked, staring at Bov. It was like he could hear the long seconds tick by. 'Are you going to drink that?' he asked, trying to get some flow of conversation going.

'Why, have you poisoned it?' she replied. Bov couldn't help but chuckle. So, she was paranoid as well?

'Nah.' He replied, the smile still on his lips. She took a slow sip, and her eyes fluttered closed. But then she seemed to remember she wasn't alone and they snapped open, flashing angrily once more. 'So, what's your name?' he asked.

'What's yours?' she snapped in return. He chuckled again.

'I'm Bovver.' He replied

'Bovver?' she laughed, before shrugging. She seemed to think Bov wasn't that much of a threat, as she replied with a small smile 'I'm Emma Mary Joanna Katherine Johnson.' Bovver raised his eyebrows.

'And you laughed at my name?' He replied, and she shrugged again. Bovver caught a movement at the corner of his eye, and her eyes flicked to over his shoulder. Her dark hair fell over her eyes, and she yanked her hood up over her head, as if hiding herself away.

'Who's your friend, Bov?' said Pete, sitting down beside him, a grin on his face.

'Pete meet Emma. Emma this is Pete Dunham.' He replied, his eyes still on Emma as if he was scared that she might disappear if he looked away. Emma gave a small nod, pulling her glass towards her.

'What's with the bag?' Pete asked. Bov looked beside her, to see a big suitcase. His eyes flicked back to her pale face. She was grinning.

'I just got released from Meadows Hill Hospital Psychiatric Ward.' Wow. That was unexpected.

'Why was you there?' Pete asked, taking a gulp of his beer.

'I tried to kill myself ten times. Four times drug overdose, two hangings, three times slitting my arms and once I tried to drown myself, but I had left the weights on the bank.' They were stunned into silence.

'You're crazy' muttered Bov. He couldn't help it. It was the first thing that came to his mind. Maybe him and 'er weren't so different. 'Why didja try an' kill yourself?' he asked, after a moments pause.

'My father used to beat me,' she replied. Bovver felt his guts twist in anger, and his fists clenched under the table. There was a sour look on his face. Yes, he knew all about that. Bovver shook his head softly, as Emma got to her feet.

'Where're you going?' Pete asked. 'You haven't met the lads yet.' Bov was quite thankful that Pete had changed the subject. He must have known that it was a sore point for him. Bov got to his feet.

'Yeah, come on.' Emma handed him her glass.

'Look after it. Don't let anyone have it' she said, her face a look of seriousness, as she picked up her suitcase.

''Old on. I think Terry will have a room spare for you to stay in,' Pete said before disappearing into the crowd. Bov gave her a swift smile, before leading her through the crowd towards his table. Swill was stood on his chair, swaying, his eyes closed as he sang to himself.

'I'm West Ham till I die! I'm West Ham till I die!' Ike moved up to him, slamming a fist in the back of his leg. He gave a yelp of surprise and fell backwards off his chair with a yell of, 'You cunt!' The men roared with laughter, before Dave helped Swill to his feet. Swill sat down, rubbing the back of his leg.

'Emma, meet the guys.' Bov pointed to each one as he said their names. 'That's Ike, Ned, Swill, Keith and Dave. Guys, this is Emma Mary… Susan?' he frowned. What the hell was it again?

'Emma Mary Joanna Katherine Johnson,' she replied, as if on cue. Bov looked at his friends. They looked completely and utterly lost. Then Swill sniggered into his glass. Bovver glanced at Emma, and she looked like she would like nothing more then to ram his glass up his nose. Then she took a seat, placing her suitcase neatly at her side. She seemed tense. Bov handed her the cola and took a seat beside Ned, which was also on the other side of Emma. Pete came back to the table now, handing out drinks and placing another glass beside Emma's other one. She gazed at it, as if it would explode at any moment, before pressing them together and murmuring something that he didn't hear.

Bov pulled his packet of fags from his pocket, and lit up. Emma found this interesting, and was gazing at it. Bov paused. Ah, what the fuck! He handed it out to her. She reached out slowly, and took one.

'Have you never had a fag before?' he asked, his eyes bright. Emma shook her head for no. Bovver took the fag off her, placed it in his mouth and lit the end, taking a drag as he did so 'You might not like it, but you'll get used to it' he reassured. He hoped she wasn't asthmatic or anything. 'Just, suck the end.' He added, watching her. She put it to her lips, and took in a big breath. Then she dropped it, almost bent double in a coughing fit. Bov went to put a hand on her back, a look of concern on his face. He hoped he hadn't killed her.

'Sweet. See 'er face' Ned laughed as he picked up the fag. Emma managed to stop coughing, and glanced up. There was a dark look on her face. Bovver sat forward, glancing from Emma to Ned. She had just come from a mental home. He didn't know how far she would go. Suddenly, her glass was in her hand and the cola was all over Ned. He gave a grunt of shock, as the others roared with laughter and delight. Emma was already gone. Bov jumped up. If she wasn't careful, she would run into anyone. Not everyone was nice in this place. He pushed his way past people and out into the cold air. He could see her running down the street, her slip on shoes flapping stupidly on the floor.

'Emma! Wait!' he called, taking chase. She ignored him, turning a corner. Bovver followed her and she started to slow until she came to a stop. Emma spun around, her eyes narrowed, fists clenched tightly at her sides.

'What do you want?' she snapped. Great, now she probably thought he was the bad fucker. Bov stopped, breathing hard. She didn't half run fast.

'You shouldn't run off like that. Not 'ere in London anyway. You don't know who's out there. Anyone could take you.' Emma backed off, as Bov stepped closer. He held out his hand. 'Emma, Ned's a cunt. Just come back to the pub. If he tries anything, I'll hit 'im for you, yeah?' he tried to reason with her. He didn't know why he was even wasting his time with her. She was just a girl. She glanced over his shoulder at the pub, and then back at him. She didn't break eye contact.

'I hate it when people laugh at me.' Bov nodded. She looked so vulnerable and helpless at the moment, and he felt a strange urge to protect him, similar to the feeling he had during fights, but for his friends safety.

'He won't do it again, I promise.' Slowly, Emma moved towards him, but then past him. Bov let his hand drop to his side and fell into step beside her. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. He saw her look up at him from the corner of his eye.

'Will you buy me a beer?' Well that was totally unexpected. A grin came on his face.

'Sure.' He agreed. When they got back to the pub, Ned was wiping his face on a tea towel, and Swill was flopped over the table, still roaring with laughter.

'See your face though! Ah, fucking picture mate,' he slid off his chair, still shaking in his delight. Ned grumbled, 'It wasn't _that_ funny.' Swill slowly got to his feet, wiping his eyes. Ned wound up the tea towel, before whipping it at Swill. It hit the inside of his thigh and Swill stumbled over again.

'Oh, you little fucker! You'll pay for that one,' he growled, rubbing his thigh. Bov moved over, scowling at Ned, who shrugged, and sat down. Swill pulled himself back into his chair again, winking at Emma. 'Alright darlin'?' Emma nodded, her hands wrapped together, between her knees. She hunched forward slightly. Dave returned, with fresh beers. He handed one to Swill, and the other to Pete, who was sending a text. Bov sat back in his chair, and lit up. He took a deep drag, a troubled look on his face. Emma pulled her glass towards her, drinking deeply. He was aware of everything she was doing and it was fucking stupid. Bov took another drag on his Richmond and rubbed his eyes. He was quite tired from the fight, and his jaw ached like a bastard. He had taken a punch for Ike. Emma shifted in her chair, and he noticed she had shifted nearer to him. He swallowed, suddenly feeling like a shy schoolboy. He got to his feet and moved through the people into the toilets.

Leaning against the sink, he gazed at his reflection. He ran his fingers over his stumble, dark blue eyes full of fire. The fire to fight, not love. Love was a stupid word, a stupid thing that only the lucky people got. He was not one of those people. For fuck sakes, he lived in a council flat, worked at a call-center, and spent his free time getting pissed and knocking blokes out. People like him weren't lucky enough to have people care for him. Fuck, his mother hadn't even shown him love and she was family. He shut his eyes, pressing his forehead against the cold glass. And now he felt like he needed to protect some crazy girl from the big bad world. He must have had way too much to drink already. The door squeaked open and Bov looked up. Pete shut the door behind him and walked forward, a frown on his face.

'You alright, mate?'

'Yeah,' mumbled Bov, straightening up. He looked at the ground, and Pete gave a sigh.

'You look like you've been sucking a lemon. Tell me what's up.' Bovver slowly looked up at his best friend. They told each other everything. It may seem like a girlie thing to do, but fuck me; it helped, to get things off your chest. Bov stuffed his hands in his pockets. He exhaled.

'It's Emma.'

'What about her?'

'Exactly! I can't pinpoint what it is about her which makes me want to be around her.' Bov's brow furrowed in frustration. 'I know fuck all about her and that's just makes me more eager to keep her safe.' Pete placed a hand on his shoulder.

'Look, wait until tomorrow and see how you feel.' Bov nodded. It sounded like the best idea so far. Pete smiled. 'Come on. My round.' He led the way out the toilets, as Terry came over with a tray of drinks. Emma had a nervous, but determined look on her face.

'What's going on?' Bov asked when he sat down.

'Emma wanted a beer, yeah, so I told 'er she couldn't even finish her cola.' Crap. Bov had forgotten about getting her a drink. 'So, she said she could drink twenty in a row any day, so I bet her. She gets a tenner if she can drink them all.' Twenty beers were now lined up on the table. Bov shook his head, a slight smile on his lips. Even he'd love to see if she'd complete it.

* * *

'Emma! Emma! Emma!' chanted the guys. Bovver watched as Emma downed her second to last beer. She flopped across the table, and Bov had the urge to just take her home and let her sleep it off. But she was a tough cookie, raising her head when Dave squeezed her shoulder.

'Come on Em, one more and you've won a tenner!' Swill was grinning across the table from her, waving a tenner about. Bovver gave a reassuring smile, when Emma looked right at him. It caused goose bumps to rise on his arms. She put the glass to her lips and drained it easily. Swill's smirk was gone.

'What? I was hoping she would puke by the last glass!' he whined. Swill placed it in front of her. 'And that was my last tenner!' he said, as Emma stuffed it in her pocket. She tried to get her to her, and fell over the stool that Ned had just departed. She fell right over, hitting the ground hard on the other side.

'Christ, is she okay?' asked Bovver, as he got to his feet. Dave moved over as well, and both of them hoisted her up. She mumbled something, before Terry opened the door that led to his apartment.

'Get her in here.'

'Nice barman' Emma murmured. Bov lifted her up, until he was carrying her, and Dave held open the door. He made his way up the stairs, as she rested her head on his shoulder. She let out a sigh. 'This was fun. We should do it again,' she was slurring, and Bov felt a little sorry for her. It seemed she didn't really drink like they did. She let out a small cough. Bov pushed open the bedroom of the spare room in which he stayed in when he was too slaughtered to even move. He placed her carefully on the bed, and she yawned. Bov watched her for a moment. With a small sigh, he stepped out the room and closed the door behind him.

* * *

'She's quite hot, don't you think?' remarked Ike, as the guys moved down the road from the Abbey.

'She was before she chucked her drink at me' moaned Ned.

'You shouldn't have laughed at 'er' muttered Bov, as he zipped up his jacket, the scowl back on his face.

'Yeah, but you think she's hot, don't you Bov?' Pete said, a small smile on his lips.

'What?' growled Bovver, looking at the suddenly interesting ground.

'I mean, you didn't take your eyes off 'er all night, bruv,' he replied. Bov looked up.

'That don't mean nothing,' he said, his fists clenched in his jacket. Pete would keep his silence, but he would always like to see how far he could go first.

'Mate, you can tell us, you know,' said Swill, staggering into a lamp post, with an opff! Dave helped him to his feet, before he turned to the guys.

'Ah, leave the lad alone. It's not like yous weren't getting an eyeful when she was passed out!' The lads laughed, and murmured their agreement. 'Anyway, I probably won't see you lot tomorrow.'

'Work?' asked Pete. Dave nodded.

'Yeah, taking some lad over the main controls, and having him fly down to Scotland.' Dave told them.

'Scotland?! That's like the other side of the fucking country, mate!' complained Swill, moving over to his front door and fumbling for his key.

'Yeah. See you!'

'Cheerio!' Swill said, in a sing song voice before shutting the door. There was a crash, and a shout of 'Fucking plant pot!' as Bovver walked ahead of them, his hood up now. Pete moved alongside him.

'Alright Bov?'

'Yeah, just been thinking, that's all.' The two men fell into silence, as they listened to the banter of their friends behind them. It was difficult for Bov. Yeah, he had girls now and then, nothing special. But there was something special about Emma. He shook his head. Give over, you prick, he thought to himself. It was best just to stand back and see what happens first. He'd only known her for a couple of hours. She could be gone in the morning for all he knew.

And deep down inside, he hoped she wasn't.


	3. Fight

**AUTHORS NOTE: Yo-ho-ho and a bottle o' rum. :) Here is chapter three!! Hope you like it, anyway and don't forget to review me. Seriously, you don't know how much i love your reviews. **

**The next chapter should be up in a couple of days, but its just its the most boringest for me (well, except for the first part where Emma is taken) But after that i have 2 months of Emmaless fun to write and -sigh- I have terribly writers block. Any cures?**

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Anything, but Ordinary

Chapter Three

Fight

Sunday. Bov awoke that morning, feeling like shit. His jaw felt like it had froze, when he tried to move it that morning. He slid out of bed, and stretched. He looked at his apartment. It was quite clean, except for Swills burger boxes by the chair. Moving over to his drawers, he pulled them open and pulled out a pair of loose jeans. He slid them over his hips, as he grabbed a shirt and pulled it on. He buttoned it up, as his mobile rang on the table. Bovver walked over, and answered it. 'Hello?'

'Hey Bov.'

'Oh, alright Pete.' He said, moving over to his drawers for some socks. He grabbed a pair and pulled them on, with difficulty, one handed.

'You coming out?'

'Yeah, just woke up so give me 10.'

'Sure. See you at the Abbey.'

'See you Bruv.' Pete ended the call, and Bov pocketed his phone. Any excuse to see how Emma was, would do him fine. Taking his zip up hoody from over the chair, Bov pulled it on. He moved into his small kitchen area, casting about for something to eat. He settled for Rice Crispys, and ate quickly. Dumping his bowl in the sink, he pulled on his trainers and jacket before locking his front door and heading down the street. It was quite a pleasant day, with the sun shining down. But the heat made his head hurt more. Pushing open the door to Abbey, Bov was greeted by a chorus of 'Aye, Aye!', 'Oi, Oi!' and 'Alright mate?' Bov smiled, pulling off his coat and slinging it over the back of a chair. He moved over to the counter, where Dave was perched on a stool, chomping on salted peanuts.

'Carling please,' he said to Terry, fishing in his jeans for money. He passed over £1.30, before taking a sip of the cool alcohol. It refreshed him. He scratched his chin, looking about. He'd think Emma would be awake by now. It was almost 12pm. 'Where's Emma?' he asked Terry.

'She's in the shower. She should be out soon.'

'How long she been in there?'

'About forty-five minutes now,' Terry replied. Bov froze, as he remembered hearing about all the suicide attempts last night. Without another word, he slid off the stool and darted up the stairs to his apartment. He could hear the shower going and he paced outside the door. He didn't dare knock or call or anything. He was worried, in case she didn't reply and then he'd have to go in and find her and- The door swung open and Emma stepped out.

'Christ, I thought you'd died!' He hadn't even heard the shower go off. Emma jumped, blinking at him for a moment, before asking,

'What you doing here?' She moved past him, into the bedroom. Bovver frowned, not knowing whether to follow or not. He did, hanging in the doorway.

'Just checking you were okay. You had a little bit too much to drink last night,' he replied, watching her. The next thing shocked him.

'I 'm fine,' she smiled, letting the towel drop. Bov took in her form in one swift movement, without even meaning to. Her small, pale body, the cuts on her arms and legs, her small, round breasts, all shown to him.

'What the fuck are you doing?!' Bov yelped, turning around so his back was to her.

'I'm so sorry!' she said, her voice unusually high. Bov gave a small shrug.

'It's alright, just surprised me, that's all. Maybe I should wait downstairs,' he muttered, moving out the doorway and shutting the door. He shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he moved downstairs.

'So, she alive then?' asked Dave, chalking the end of his pool cue, before going for a shot. Swill was watching the game carefully, his own pool cue tight in his hands.

'Huh? Oh, yeah she fine,' he replied, picking up his pint from the bar and sipping it. There was the sound of the hairdryer upstairs. Bov shook his head. So what, a girl naked? It wasn't like it was the first time he'd seen one. But, the thought of it being Emma sort of thrilled him. Dirty pervert, he thought, as he placed his beer on the table and took the cue that was propped up beside him. Then he moved in for his shot. He couldn't really concentrate, his thoughts flicking back to what she had done, what he had seen. He kicked the table in his frustration. Who. The. Fuck. Cared? It's just a girl! He snarled to himself. Pete was watching him closely, and he popped a ball in the hole at the other end of the table. Bov heard the door open behind him, and he stopped himself looking around to see her. Swill moved from the pool table, in her direction. Straightening up, Bov moved to the other side of the pool table to have another shot.

'Morning' he heard Swill say. Bov was aware of everything that was happening over there. Dave had followed Swill to smack him with the pool cue. Swill had called his mum a lard arse earlier, and Dave said he would get revenge when he least expects it. Bov looked up, as Pete took the stool beside her.

'You alright?' he asked. Emma nodded, with a stretch. Bovver tried to ignore the conversation they were having. Dave had returned to the game and was winning. Bov tried to get back into action, but potted the wrong ball.

'You know what that means, son?' said Dave, a smug grin on his face. 'That means I've won and you owe me a fiver!' He held out his money for the cash. Bov pulled out his wallet, and handed the money over. Dave kissed it, and went to the bar to get drinks. He watched as Emma slid off her chair. He had the impulse to follow her, and after a minute arguing with himself, he decided he should. Bov moved through the bar, and pushed open the doors. Emma had sunk to her knees in the middle of the road, and a car was speeding towards her.

'EMMA!' he yelled, running forward as the car screeched to a stop beside her. She opened her eyes, looking a little dazed before Bov yanked her up by her arms. 'What the fuck were you thinkin'?' Bov shouted. He knew he was a bit in her face, but was she completely out of it? The man in the car climbed out, as the rest of the guys piled out the Abbey to see what the commotion was.

'Did I hit her? She was just sat there?' panicked the driver. Emma covered her ears. Everything was a babble.

'Why did you do that? You coulda died!' Bov continued. Why would she try and kill herself like that? She raised her hand, and hit him for all she was worth. It stung like a bitch and Bov let go of her.

'I wasn't doing anything,' Emma snapped. 'I was just enjoying the sunshine!'

'In the middle of the fucking road!' he retorted. Bov could feel the anger pulsing through his body, his cheek throbbing painfully. Emma narrowed my eyes before turning and running into the Abbey. Bov went to follow her, but Terry placed a hand on his chest.

'Just leave her. She needs to calm down.'

'She coulda died!' Bov growled, clenching his jaw.

'But she didn't. I'm sure it was a mistake.' The man was getting back into his car. Bov was going to give him a piece of his mind, when the bar doors swung open and Emma came out, wearing an oversized blue coat. She stalked up to Terry, acting as if Bov wasn't there.

'I'm going out' She muttered

'Are you sure that's wise?' Bov folded his arms over his chest as he asked her. Emma kept her eyes on the barman. Terry frowned.

'Bov's right. You shouldn't wander about London by yourself.'

'Yeah, but Bovver isn't the boss of me' she growled. 'So he should go and take care of someone who actually needs it!' Emma turned to gaze to his, eyes full of hate and anger and also hurt. Then she turned, and began to walk down the road.

'Emma! You're being stupid!' Bov called after her.

'Piss off' came the reply, before she turned down an alleyway. The others were shouting at her to come back, but there was no reply. Bovver ran a hand over his face, before Pete was at his side. Swill moved over as well.

'Bov, what do you want to do?' he asked. Swill was literally jumping for attention.

'What Swill?' snapped Bov.

'I got an idea,' he whined. The guys looked at him. 'Why don't we just follow her?' he said. Bov muttered something nasty under his breath, but Pete nodded.

'I agree.' Bov looked up.

'Don't you think she'll notice seven full grown men following her? Three of which are drunk already?' he glanced at Swill, who was swaying slightly, then at Ike and Keith. Pete rubbed his chin.

'Then they stay here.'

'Oh! But I wanna come!' moaned Swill, pouting. Bov rolled his eyes.

'No. You're staying here. We'll be fine without you.' He started to move down the road. He stopped and turned. 'Are you coming or not?' Pete nodded, and followed his right-hand man. Dave and Ned followed, as Terry led the other three back into the pub with the announcement, 'I'll buy you some more drinks yeah?' Bov moved down the alleyway after her, the others catching up and walking alongside him. He could see her up ahead, stopping at the dead end that rounded off near Swills house. She turned, and they shifted just out of view round the corner.

'This is fun' murmured Ned dully.

'Sssh' scowled Bovver, watching her as she looked up at the signpost. Then she headed down the road that led to the East London Train Station. They followed her quietly all the way there, having to hide sometimes when they thought she had noticed them. But then she would carry on walking, humming to herself, her face sometimes converting to anger as she talked to herself. Suddenly, she grinned as the train station came into view and made her way towards it.

'Great. Who has cash?' asked Bov, looking about. Dave raised a hand.

'I do. But, we have to find out where she's going first.' Ned frowned, before Pete snagged the hand of a young woman. She gave a whimper.

'Don't hurt me,' she said instantly.

'We're not going to' growled Bovver. She glanced at him, then back at Pete.

'See that lady with black hair, up ahead. The one skipping.' The woman nodded. 'Can you just follow her to the ticket booth and find out where she is going.' He let go of her hand and she skittered off. They watched her tail Emma, waiting behind her at the ticket booth. They heard her laugh something, before heading back to the others.

'She's going to Central London, getting the 1:30pm train.' Dave handed her a fiver.

'Thanks,' he smiled, before they left her and moved towards the ticket booth. Dave dealt with the machine, while Bov kept watch on Emma. Grabbing their tickets, they headed over to Track 7.

'Why don't we just go and see her?' grumbled Ned. Pete shook his head.

'Do you not know where she's from?' he asked. Ned shrugged.

'You mentioned it.'

'Well, she could easily freak out, couldn't she. We can't scare her.' Ned went quiet, looking at his train ticket. Emma had an angry look on her face once again, as the train rolled to a stop. They boarded, their seats on the other side of the carriage to Emma's. But they could still see her. It was a quarter of an hour journey, which suited them fine. Bov just wanted to grab her and tell her to come home where it was safe. But Pete was right. If she went crazy, who knows what would happen. He just wished she would stop being a fucking idiot. They continued to follow her off the train. It was obvious that she didn't know where she was going. She kept getting lost, heading down alleyways and deserted roads. It was harder to be quiet down here, their shoes hitting puddles, but she seemed too in-her-own-world to notice. Bov could see them up ahead. A group of cunts from another firm. Bov licked his bottom lip as the four paused. Emma was going to walk right into them.

'Who's this then?' Ash Michaels moved across the road towards Emma. She stopped, backing off a little but he kept at her. He leaned into her, and Bovver just wanted to go over there and throttle him. 'What you got there then?' His hand moved towards her pocket, and Emma backed off further. 'What's your name, pretty?' he leered. Emma moved backwards against a wall. No, no, no. Bov watched Emma swipe Ash across the face. 'Ow! You fuck!' he yelled. Emma began to run away from them, and they started forward. He looked up at Pete.

Pete was muttering something to Dave. Why weren't they doing anything? Pete turned to Bov.

'We're going to 'ave to fight them.'

'Me too' growled Bov. Pete shook his head.

'No! Whatever happens, you have to get Emma out of here. If we all go down- Bov, listen to me- If we all go down, think of what they'll do to her.' Bov turned back, watching Ash's lips move against her neck, feeling hatred bubble up inside him.

'Oi, Ash!' yelled Pete. He looked up with a laugh.

'Dunham! How nice to see you.' He dropped Emma to her knees, as the ring of men parted for him to step through.

'Michaels! How unfortunate for you to come across us, while you're harassing this poor woman.' Ash's smile faded. Bov clenched his fists at his sides.

'You should just walk on Dunham. This bird's mine.' He watched Emma climb to her feet, but was grabbed by Bernie Evans, pinning her against him. Bov stepped forwards a little, his eyes on Emma. Pete placed a hand on his chest, but Bov shook his head, pushing past his hand. He walked straight up to Ash, who looked like he was crapping himself, grabbed his arms and slammed his head into his. He fell like a sack of shit. Bov looked up as Bernie dropped Emma. Dave had been tackled by Franco, and Pete had just smashed the shit out of Aaron Davies. Bovver ran over to Emma, pulled her to her feet and pushed her towards the alley. He had to get her away from them. She started to hit out, walloping him on the jaw. Bov groaned, letting her go.

'Oi! Watch it,' he grumbled, moving his jaw to check it still worked. Emma gave a squeal, leapt at him, her arms tight around his neck. Bov wasn't sure whether she was still attacking him or not. Slowly, he put his arms around her, when he was sure it was safe. His heart was racing. Fucking hell, his own body was against him.

'You saved me! You saved me!' she kept saying.

'Don't worry about it,' he muttered in return, but wasn't sure whether she had heard it or not. The shouts behind them were louder than before. It didn't sound good.

'What about the others?'

'They'll catch up,' he replied quickly, glancing backwards. But he had told Pete he would get Emma out of there.

* * *

Bovver's eyes stayed on the clock of the empty Abbey. He paced to and fro, sometimes glancing at Emma and catching her eyes on him. Well, he couldn't help but be fucking worried. His best mates were out there somewhere. What if they were lying bleeding? Or dead? He shook his head. He wouldn't think of that. Emma looked close to tears, but he couldn't comfort her right now. He was too frustrated. The time seemed to drag and drag and there wasn't really much he could do. Unless he went back to find them. Bovver fished his keys from his pocket, just as the doors swung open. Thank fuck. He let out a shaky breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. The three men stumbled in, Ned looking a little worse for wear. His hand was plastered in a cast, his eye swollen. Dave and Pete looked quite bad, but they were just bruises.

'What the fuck happened?' demanded Swill, getting to his feet. Pete moved over to the bar, beside Bov.

'Seeing as it was three against fifteen, I'm guessing it didn't come off well' Pete snapped at him. 'We had to stop off at A+E because Ned's hand looked like it was about to fall off.'

'Why couldn't you have rung us?' asked Bov, moving towards Ned and looking at his hand.

'Some cunt smashed my phone, Ned's died and Pete didn't have his on him' grumbled Dave, taking the stool beside Emma. She stared at his cheek, eyes wide. 'Does it look bad?' he asked. Emma nodded, touching it, and pulling away her hand when Dave winced. 'Damn, this will kill me in the morning,' he muttered. Then Emma looked up, and Bov looked away.

'What happened?' she asked him.

'Oh, some big bloke kicked him to the floor, and that Ash Michaels, you know, the one that was trying to hurt you, well he just stamped on him. Broke a couple of his fingers and flattened his hand. Fat twat,' he muttered. 'Ah, you best get to bed anyway Emma. We can stay up and ogle at Ned's hand.' He gave a smile as Emma slid off the chair. She moved past Dave to get to the door, but then she changed her path and made her way towards Bov instead. He straightened up.

'Can I talk to you?' she asked. Bov frowned, but nodded. He followed her into the corridor, and she shut the door behind them. Shit. What the fuck did he do now? Many thoughts were running through his head as he gazed at her. She gave a small smile.

'Thanks. And sorry. I was stupid to have run off like that. It's my fault that you all got hurt, and that Ned's hand is pancake and everything!' Emma threw up her arms in frustration.

'Don't worry. We've 'ad worse,' he replied, not really thinking about what he was saying. It went very quiet, Bov leaning forward very slightly on his feet. It was suddenly very warm in this little hallway. Emma shuffled her feet, her cheeks turning red, as he realized what she must have been thinking about him.

'Well, night then.' She said, in a hurried voice, sliding past him and running up the stairs. Bovver ran a hand through his hair. Moving into the bar, he shut the door behind him. He needed to get her out of his head. She wasn't interested. Bov could tell by the look on her face back then, and the way she had run as fast as she could. To get away from him.

'You alright, son?' asked Dave when Bov slid onto a stool. Bov nodded.

'Yeah. She just wanted to say thanks.'

'Why alone though?' asked Ned.

'Huh?'

'Why did she have to get you alone to say thanks?'

'I don't fucking know, do I?' he snapped. Ned looked at his hand. Bov had been quite irritable since Emma had come.

'She should be saying thanks to me! I mean, will it ever be the same again?'

Ike rolled his eyes. 'You're such a girl.'

'Piss off.' Bov stared at Ned's hand, and then sighed deeply.

'I'm going back.'

'What?' asked Pete, with a frown.

'With all of us, I'm sure we can kick the shit out of these cunts.'

'I'm up for it,' said Swill. Ike nodded in agreement.

'Yeah, we should. I mean, they tried to hurt Emma. Come on; _Emma!_' Pete gave a short nod.

'Alright. In a couple of days, we'll go down there.' Bov grinned, and Pete gave a small smile. He had never really seen Bovver happy, unless they were at footie, or fighting. And with Emma here… Pete would just have to see what happened between the two.

* * *

**END NOTES: Damit. They didn't even kiss. Now Review! I demand you to!!**


	4. Stolen

**AUTHORS NOTES: I have been ill this last couple of days with writing block, but thankfully, i am cured, with the help of signalfire and her wonderful advice, and also the music of Duran Duran, David Bowie, The Fray and Take That. I love you all.  
You may notice that Bov turns into EmoBov. Never mind that. Things (might) sort themselves out in the next chapter. I don't know yet, because i haven't wrote it. But, now, i am going to take a well deserved couple of hours off and watch Shaun of the Dead with my mum, sister and dog. **

* * *

Anything, but Ordinary

Chapter Four

Stolen

The guys didn't want to mention anything about Ash Michaels to Emma. Keeping her in the dark kept her safe.

Simple.

They hunted the lads down. It was a surprise attack yeah, but they deserved it. Hell, did they deserve it. The fight was rough. Pete stepped aside for that fight, so Bovver could just take down Ash. And take down, he did. With a growl, Bov slammed the fuckers head in the pavement. Ash gave a groan, blood dribbling down his cheek.

'Stop,' he grunted.

'Stop? Fucking stop? Would you have stopped with Emma if we hadn't fucking arrived?' he snarled, kneeing him in the guts. Keith staggered backwards, another man his size gripped in his arms, before he was slammed into a car. Bov turned back to Ash, a sour look on his face, eyes dark; murderous. 'You are such a little bitch,' he spat, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanked it back. The man groaned, eyes bruised and cut, blood dripping from his cut lip. 'I could rip you apart here,' he muttered in his ear. 'I could slit your throat and throw you in a river if I really fucking wanted to. If you even _breath_ in Emma's direction again, I will kill you. Got that, you little cunt?' Ash whimpered, before Bov slung him to the floor and got to his feet.

'Leave off it boys,' Ash gasped, coughing blood onto the pavement. Bovver gave a small smile as his friends stalked away, Swill lingering to kick some guy in the face. When they got back, Emma asked no questions, but stared at their injuries, a small look of concern on her face.

* * *

'Oi, boys,' smiled Terry. Pete looked up.

'Yeah?'

'It's Em's birthday tomorrow.'

Swill grinned. 'Dave, can I borrow 40 quid then?' he asked. Dave frowned.

'40 quid? 40 fucking quid?'

'Yeah, 'cause I saw something that Emzie would love!' He got to his feet and checked his watch. 'Store'll shut soon though.' Dave grumbled, pulled out his wallet and handed Swill the cash.

'And if you dare come back with several crates of beer, I will shoot you,' warned Dave, before chewing a peanut. Before long, Swill was back, dragging a huge elephant teddy through the door. Almost everyone in the pub was watching him, as he made his way through the bar. Bov raised an eyebrow.

'What the fuck?'

'Present for Emma! Think she'll like it?'

'She better had do. Came outta my wallet.'

'Better then what Ned fucking has,' commented Pete. The guys looked over at Ned, who was player with a marker pen, the word Emma scribbled on a paper party hat.

'It's something!' he said defensively.

'Just put them round the back of the bar,' said Terry, opening the hatch. Swill took the party hat and put it on the elephant's trunk, before pulling it into the bar.

'Look at all that beer!'

'Get out, prick,' laughed Terry, pushing him out again, before closing the hatch and going to the other side to serve someone. Pete stretched.

'Well, I'm gunna call it a night,' he said, getting to his feet. Bov sighed, but got to his feet as well. He'd see her tomorrow.

'What did you get Emma?' Dave asked Terry when he returned. Terry cleared his throat, and took a sip of beer in a moment's hesitation.

'A diary.' Dave grinned.

'Anything's better then Ned's,' smirked Ike. Ned mouthed 'Fuck off,' but grinned anyway.

'Come on lads. We 'ad to get ready for Emma's party tomorrow.' That had been Swills idea, and Bov had backed him up. It would make her happy, hopefully.

They didn't get to the Abbey, until about 11 the next morning. Dave ordered the pints when they got there, before sitting down beside the elephant that was sat on one of the stools. Emma came through the door at that moment, beaming. She was wearing Ned's hat, and the badge that came with Swill's card. Bov felt a smile form on his lips; an involuntary reaction. It surprised him. He lit a fag.

'Morning darling!' beamed Swill, handing her a cola as soon as she was near. Emma took it, taking a sip and placing it aside. He watched as she brushed her hair over her shoulder, and he moved over. An excuse to be closer.

'Have you given it a name yet?' he asked, taking a drag. Emma smiled, and Bovver actually felt funny in his stomach. For fuck sakes, couldn't he even be near her anymore without his body going all weird.

'Yeah, it's called Petikdaillovedithem.' Bov's fag almost fell out his mouth.

'Huh?' She rolled her eyes.

'Petikdaillovedithem! Pete, Ike, Dave, Swill, Bov, Ned, Keith and Emma,' she told him. 'It's a heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-she.' Swill let out a laugh.

'Ah, she a proper genius!' Bov smiled, and shook his head in disbelief, before taking his seat next to the elephant. He picked up its trunk, giving himself a reason to look away from her. Emma took a seat beside him. God Damit.

'Are we going to do something fun today?' asked Ned. Jeez, he was probably more excited about this party than anyone. Pete moved over to them, with his pint, smiling. He opened his mouth to reply, when the door squeaked open. Bovver looked up with a frown. The pub shouldn't be open yet.

Two people walked in, and Bov felt instant jealousy fill him. They looked like everything he had ever wanted; smart clothes, neat looks, money, most likely with a big house and good jobs. The man gazed about, around two heads taller than his stumpy wife, who had earrings Pat Butcher would be proud of. He glared at them.

'Emma?' The woman's gaze landed on Emma, and she looked stunned. Bov frowned, shifting a little nearer to her. Swill was staring at them, with the same stunned expression, fag burning softly in his fingers.

'Can I help you?' asked Terry, leaning on the bar with a frown. 'The bar aint open yet.'

'Do you really think we have come for a drink? Look at us and look at this place,' the man said. Bov half raised from his chair, but Pete put a hand on his shoulder, to calm him. The woman stared at Emma hard, eyes looking her up and down. Then, she stepped forward, and snatched the party hat from her hat. The elastic snapped with a twang, and Emma let in a sharp intake of breath.

'Gallivanting around with a bunch of alcoholic thugs? I did not bring you up to act like that!' Bring her up? Bov guessed, angrily, that these were her parents. Before he could say anything though, Emma was on her feet.

'They are not alcoholic thugs! Dave is in the R.A.F and Pete is a teacher and Keith is a mechanic!' The woman sniffed. Bov looked up as the door crept open again. Was this a fucking free for all or what? The man that entered looked like someone who was probably from a modeling agency. In his early 30's, the man had dark, perfectly combed hair. Beside him was a man younger than Bov, blond hair flopping down to his eyes. He had a smug look about him.

The older man's gaze landed on Emma, a hungry look in his brown eyes. Almost predatory. Bov clenched his fists, as Emma backed off from the chair, fear in her eyes. Bov got to his feet, face set.

'Emma,' started the man, who he presumed to be Emma's dad. The brown haired man sighed, his eyes never leaving her face.

'Emma, I said you could have your freedom if you attended counseling classes.'

'I forgot.' She sounded vulnerable, and the protecting urge was over powering him.

'You know the rules. You have to come back to us.' Emma was backing off around the pool table, as Bovver stepped forward.

'She don't wanna go,' he growled. He couldn't lose her to a bunch of stuck up twats. The man finally looked at him, amusement in his eyes.

'That is not for you to decide young man.' He turned his gaze back to Emma, stepping forward. Simultaneously, Pete and Bovver stepped into his path. The man cleared his throat. 'Emma is a hospital patient. She is unstable and could flip at any moment. Don't you realize the danger in that?'

Bovver glanced down at his name tag. Dr Matthews huh? No fucking Doctor was going to take Emma away, not now.

'She's fine. She's been with us for ages and she's not tried to kill herself once. She don't need to go back to that shit hole.' Bov had his fists clenched, squaring up to the doctor, eyes never leaving his.

'Get out my way.' Matthews' voice was hard now.

'No!' Bov growled. Swill moved past him, to stand by Emma's side. She looked close to having a fit, eyes moving swiftly from one face to another. Matthews' lip curled, just as Bov raised his fist, giving a well aimed punch in the chin.

'Oh my God!! Thugs! THUGS THE LOT OF THEM! SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE! IT'S ASSULT!' The woman was screaming her head off, staggering out of the doors, her husband close behind her. Bov didn't notice where the Doctor had gone to, in the mist of everything. The blonde man had snuck around the pool table, and was now yanking Emma towards the door. He practically pushed her out, Swill, Bov and Dave on his heels. He saw her fall into the side of the van, before the doctor went to pin her against it.

'Oi! Get the fuck off her,' Swill yelled, grabbing the man's arm and yanking him off her. He tossed him to the floor, too intent on giving out a few punches to notice Matthews had grabbed her around the waist. He moved her towards the back of the van, and as Bov went to dart over there, the blonde doctor grabbed his leg, causing him to trip. He hit his head on the pavement, feeling sickeningly dizzy when he sat up fast.

'Fuck off,' he growled, kicking the man in the face. Blood gushed onto the pavement from his bust lip, and the blonde curled up to protect himself. Bov staggered to his feet, the world tilting sideways. He shook his head to try and clear it.

'Help!' He could hear Emma screaming in the van, and the sound of the engine starting up. 'Help! Help me! Help me!' His stomach twisted, as the van started to pull away. He took chase. 'Help!' She screamed. 'Bov, help!' Those were the last words he heard her say, before he stumbled, gasping for breath, sobs threatening to take over, the blood from his head blurring his sight.

'Emma,' he murmured, trying to rub the blood from his eyes. 'Fuck, no!'

* * *

Bovver stared at the ceiling, as he lay on the sofa, stitches at the side of his head from his fall, a scowl on his face.

'Mate, are you sure you're okay?' asked Pete, again. Bov nodded, jaw clenching. 'Look-'

'I loose everyone,' he hissed, sitting up, eyes on Pete. He frowned.

'No you don't.'

'Yes I fucking do.' He ran a hand through his hair, and sat back. 'I shoulda done more, instead of being taken down like a fucking girl!'

'You did the best you could,' Pete said, gently. Emma had been gone almost a week, and even though it had affected all the lads, including Ned, it was a lot worse for Bov. He blamed himself for letting her go.

'I can't forget the fear in her eyes, Pete,' he said, quietly, gazing at his hands. 'Every time I close my fucking eyes… she looks so scared. She was screaming at _me_ for help.' Bov shook his head. 'And I didn't.'

'You couldn't,' he corrected. Bov grumbled something under his breath, and Pete got to his feet. 'Come on.'

'What?' asked Bov, looking up. 'Look, bruv. I don't feel like coming-'

'Bov, we're going to see 'er. We'll get 'er out of there.' Bov stared blankly up at him. 'Do you wanna see her again or what?' asked Pete, a little frustrated at Bov's slow uptake. He nodded. 'Well, hurry up. I'll wait in the car.'

It took a lot longer to get to Meadows Hills, than it should have. But, with Swill and Dave in the back seat, the trip was more enjoyable than he would have thought. Pete pulled into where the big gates were, a large, sign informing them that they were at the right place.

'Can I 'elp?' asked a butch man, small, piggy eyes gazing at them intently.

'We've come for an appointment with Dr Matthews.' The man didn't even ask anything else, and instead, pressed a button and the gates clanked open. Pete followed the driveway, until he came to a small car park. 'Right, come on then.'

* * *

'You're here to see who?' asked Dr Matthews, humorously.

'Don't pretend you can't remember us,' snapped Bov.

'Oh I do,' he smiled; it was sleazy. His fingers trailed along the bruise on his jaw, and he cocked his head to one side. 'She isn't here.'

'Well, where is she?' asked Swill, shifting forwards slightly. Dr Matthews eyed him up, and sighed.

'She has been taken to Edinburgh, to another asylum, for her own safety. Let's just say, you won't be seeing her again.' He shuffled some papers on his desk, as Bov scowled.

'Where 'bouts is it?' he asked. He looked up.

'Pardon?'

'Where's this institute place?' Dr Matthews shrugged.

'I don't know. All I know is that she was transferred. Now, I have a meeting to attend. Sorry for the let down boys,' he said, not sounding sorry at all as he moved past them. He held open the door. 'Please?' Pete sighed, and rubbed his jaw, before walking out. Dave followed after Swill, but Bov hung back a little, moving close, so his face was inches from the Doctors.

'Whatever sick fucking game you are playing with 'er, you better stop, 'cause once I find her-'

'You'll what?' he asked softly. Bov's lip curled.

'She didn't need to go back!' Dr Matthews shook his head.

'Come on, mate!' shouted Pete from down the corridor. Bov glared at Matthews, before he stalked off down the white corridors, after his friends. He _would_ fucking find her. Even if it took him ages, he would.

And, if he had waited a moment longer, he would have seen her. Emma slipped into the office, looking down at the floor the entire time. She sighed, and glanced down at the corridor, just as a man in a blue jacket disappeared around the corner. 'At least someone has freedom,' she murmured to herself. Dr Matthews shut the door, and with that predatory gaze, he started towards her.

* * *

'We 'ave to go get 'er!' aid Bov, as soon as they were out of the gates. Pete sighed.

'Mate, there could be hundreds of institutes in Edinburgh.'

'I don't fucking care. Dave.' The man in question looked up. 'You still go down to Scotland with that kid, don't you?' He nodded, with a frown.

'You want me to search all over Edinburgh?' Dave asked and rubbed his jaw, before nodding. 'I go down there with Nick next Wednesday. I'll see what I can do, but it's going to take a while.' Bov rubbed his eyes, and sat back, his head against the side window. He pulled out a fag and lit it, taking a drag and letting it out slowly.

'Don't worry, Bov,' said Swill, after a moment. 'We'll find her.'

* * *

Three and a half fucking weeks. Twenty-five days. He hadn't seen her for twenty-five fuck arse days. Because they hadn't found her. He had put his hopes on Dave, when he went to Scotland, but there was no sound of Emma or any asylum for that matter. So, they were back at square one. Even though he had the boys, Bov felt… lonely. And Frustrated and angry. If he didn't have the boys, then life wouldn't be worth living. He had nothing, and the things he did get, he fucked up good and proper.

Emma gazed at the pond from the bench she was sat on. It was raining hard, the drops hitting the pond water hard and causing small circles to erupt and spread. It was all happening very fast, and they merged into one another. It was almost hypnotizing. Emma looked up at the thick metal fence opposite her. She wondered what the lads were doing at this moment in time. Down the Abbey most likely, she thought with a smile. The rain soaked her to the skin, her hair plastered to her face.

'Emma?' called a voice. She looked up to see Jeremiah moving through the rain and over the soggy grass towards her, umbrella held high. 'Emma? Come on now, you'll catch your death.' Emma rose from her seat, moving slowly over to the woman, her slippers filled with water. She sighed, shoulders sagging. Jeremiah threw her a pitying look. 'Don't be sad.'

'I wanna be with my friends,' Emma replied, moving alongside her. Jeremiah squeezed her hand.

'I know, darling. We'll just have to see what happens.'

Weeks went by. Frequently, Emma would look out the window and wonder what Bovver was doing and frequently, Bov would lie on his sofa and gaze at the ceiling and wonder what Emma was doing. Swill and Jeremiah fondly called them pining puppies.

But that didn't make things any better.

'Aye, aye!' smiled Pete, as he moved through the bar towards Bov. Dave raised his pint.

'Alright, son?' Pete grinned, and sat down, pulling an envelope from his pocket.

'Tickets,' he grinned. 'Chelsea vs. West Ham, 'ere we come!' Bov merely glanced at the envelope, before turning back to staring out the window, rain rattling off it. Pete watched him. 'Bov?' Bov glanced at him, and then back out the window.

'Yeah?'

'We got tickets for the match.'

'I know.' Pete frowned, glancing at Dave who shrugged. Then, they both looked at Keith. Keith sighed, and moved his chair to sit by Bovver.

'Look, mate,' he began in a quiet voice. The others started to talk, pretending they didn't know what was going on. 'Do you think Emma would wanna see you this sad?' he asked. 'Just enjoy yourself for this match. Eh, if you're lucky, you can 'ave a little fight at the end. To let some steam off. Eh?'

Bovver ignored him. Keith tried again.

'It only for a couple of hours-'

'Alright!' snapped Bovver, putting out his fag, and getting to his feet. Keith stared after him as he left the pub, and walked down the sodden street. The idea of going to fight was quite appealing to him, but knowing she wouldn't be there when he returned, wasn't. He made his way down a back street, just listening to the water drip into the puddles below. The match was at five. Bov rubbed his face, sparking up, before taking the route back towards the Abbey. Just because he was a miserable cunt, shouldn't mean he had to make the others miserable cunts aswell. So, he'd go to the match, kick the shit out some Headhunters. Then he could go home and sulk, like a child. Well, he'd get pinched first. He could feel the buzz of alcohol already. The pub welcomed him back like family.

'Come on, we best catch this train then,' he said, when he got back to the table. Pete grinned, slapping him playfully on the shoulder.

'Good to 'ave you back,' he said.

* * *

**END NOTES: If you liked it, review. If you didn't, review. **


	5. Mistake

**AUTHORS NOTE: Okay, i know this is due tomorrow, but i got so excited and had to post it now :) I hope you like it! I'm not sure when Chapter 6 will be up, because my friend is sleeping tomorrow, and then for most of Saturday, i'll be away visiting family, so i'll try and get as much of C6 done tonight. Thanks for reading and don't forget my review!**

* * *

Anything, but Ordinary

Chapter Five

Mistake

The pain was so much, even his eyes watered slightly. Bovver staggered backwards from the blow to the face, hands automatically coming up to protect himself. Jake danced forwards again, a smirk on his face. 'Not on top form today, are you?' he asked. He reminded Bov strongly of Matthews, and hatred bubbled inside him. Throwing his fist, back, he slung it into Jake's chest, winding the man. Bov threw himself forwards, rugby tackling him. Jake groaned, trying to curl up. He pinned the Headhunter down, eyes blazing as he continued to punch him, in every place he could. His watered eyes were now tears, as he thought of Matthews and Emma's terrified face.

'Bov, mate!' he heard someone shout, but the noise was blurry, and all he could think about was hurting this man. 'Bov!' the voice was louder now, panicked. Someone grabbed him from behind, yanking him backwards.

'Get the fuck off me! Get off!' yelled Bov, straining to get to Jake. Zack moved forward, kneeling down beside his friend, who was just about murmuring something.

'What the fuck have you done?!' yelled Zack, glaring at Bov. Bov weakened slightly, in Pete's arms, as he pulled Bov away from the group. He allowed to be taken, furiously wiping the tears from his eyes, as they rounded a corner.

'Bovver…' began Pete. Dave and Ike looked nervously at him.

'I don't fucking wanna hear it, alright?' snapped Bov, making for the car. He yanked open the door, and slid in the passenger seat, before sitting with his head in his hands. No one said a word on the way back. The atmosphere was like ice. 'I need a drink,' he said numbly, as they turned towards the Abbey. Pete parked up outside.

'You guys go ahead,' he said to Dave and Ike, sat in the back seat. Bov frowned, sitting back in his seat. The other two were fast to leave the car, walking up to the pub with Keith, Ned and Swill. Pete turned to Bov. 'What 'appened back there?'

'Nothing,' he grumbled, not meeting Pete's eyes.

'Don't fucking 'nothing' me, Bov. You just fucking snapped! Do you realize how fast that's going to get around? Stuart Bovverington, finally lost the plot?'

'Maybe I have,' Bov replied, gazing out the window at the pub. 'Maybe I belong in the institute.'

'Don't talk like that.' muttered Pete. 'Just, get your act together.' Without another word, he slid out the car. Bov did the same, feeling annoyed. Pete didn't know how he felt. He didn't know how easy it was for him to loose the plot at the moment. He followed his friend into the pub, giving Ned a swift smile when he handed him a pint. Oh, fuck life, he thought bitterly, sitting down. And with that, he downed his first pint.

* * *

'Oi, get some drinks in,' shouted Bov, over the noise of the pub. The rest of the usual punters were in now, and most of them were celebrating the 4-3 win over Chelsea. Dave took the money, and moved over to the bar. Pete gazed at his friend, a mix of worry and annoyance on his face. At first, Pete was relieved that his best mate was turning back into the Bov he once knew, but then…

After downing the 8th beer, Pete had started to get worried. This worry turned to annoyance when Bov ordered several shots for them all, and he realized what Bovver was trying to do. So did Lauren Andrews, who had been eyeing up Bov for most of the night. She had chosen a seat, close to their table, with her tarty best friends, Caitlin and Shelby.

'Can I get you a drink?' she asked, after moving to their table. Bov shook his head.

'Nah, I got this.' Lauren pouted. She_ actually _pouted.

'Oh, please.'

'Nah, its fine, really,' replied Bov. Pete was pleased to know that some part of Bov was still there; his common sense. Lauren went quiet for a moment, before leaning into him, her lips crashing almost clumsily against his. Bov leapt back, almost sitting on Keith's knee in the process. 'What the fuck?!' he yelled, before his head snapped up. 'Emma?' The boy's heads turned, to see the back of a black haired woman pushing her way through the crowd, towards the bar. They all got up at once, pushing their way through to the bar after her. Lauren grabbed his hand.

'Don't leave me Bov. I need warming up.' She batted her eyelids seductively.

'Oh, fuck off,' he spat. Her jaw dropped.

'You can't speak to me like that!'

'I just did,' he growled, before darting away from the table and following Ned up the staircase.

'Come on out, sweetheart. We aint seen you in ages,' said Dave. They were all crowded outside her bedroom door.

'Fuck off!' she screamed back. Dave sighed, and ran a hand through his hair with a shrug. Bov moved forwards, tugging the handle. It was locked.

'Emma!' he tried. It took only a couple of seconds for the door to be yanked open. She shoved him in the chest, as he gazed at her, unable to believe she was here. She looked furious.

'The last thing I need to see is you!' Emma shouted. Bov frowned, taking a couple of steps back as the full force of her anger was unleashed on him. 'Two months I have been stuck in that fucking place and you didn't even try and help!'

'He said you was in Edinburgh!' Bov said, now feeling brave enough to move forward.

'He is a liar, Bov! You should know that. He is a liar and a cheat and a user!' She continued to shout. Bov was surprised the drunks below couldn't hear her. 'Just. Like. You.' Emma chucked herself at him, arms and legs flailing as she tried to hurt him. And it did. Not physically, but seeing her like this and knowing it was because of him… it did hurt. Dave moved behind her, yanking her backwards off of him. She slammed the door shut behind her, and for the moment they could only hear grunts and screams.

'Get off me! Get off me!' Emma was shouting

'For fuck sakes, Emma! Calm down!'

'I will _not _calm down! Get off! Get out! OUT!' It went silent for a moment, and Bov stepped forward to open the door.

'Fucking 'ell Emma,' gasped Dave.

'Get out,' she spat. Bov suddenly realized why she felt so hurt. It wasn't much of two months away from her that she was angry about. She had seen the kiss. Fucking Lauren.

'I never fucking kissed her!' he yelled, before kicking the door hard. It rattled.

'Oi,' muttered Terry. Bov ignored him.

'She kissed me! You were fucking there; you should 'ave seen that!' What was happening in there? He went for the door handle.

'Bov,' said Pete, pushing him back a little. He scowled.

'Fuck off! I want to be alone!' Emma said, in a harsh voice. Bovver pushed open the door, ignoring Pete's protests. Dave was trying to get to the door, and Emma stood there, a blade pointed at him.

'Emzie…' murmured Swill, behind him. Suddenly, Emma chucked the blade at the door. It missed Bov, instead, hitting Swill on the side of the head. He yelped. 'What the fuck?!' but Bovver's gaze was on Emma. She moved threateningly towards Dave, who backed off into Bov. Then, she slammed the door. The lock clicked.

'Go away!' she screamed again; a scream full of pain.

'Come on, mate,' said Pete, placing his hand on Bovver's shoulder, and trying to steer him away.

'Get the fuck off me,' snarled Bovver. 'Emma!' he tried again, before shaking Pete off and turning on him. 'I didn't even fucking kiss her! She kissed me!'

'I believe you-'

'Then you gotta fucking help me bruv.' He ran a hand through his hair, turning to look at the rest of the boys, watching him. 'What the fuck you all staring at!?' he spat, before heading off down the stairs, swearing all the way. He heard steps behind him, but didn't turn to see who it was. He didn't stop until he got outside. He placed his hands on the bonnet of Pete's car, and leant forward, eyes closed.

'Bov?' It was Keith. He sounded unsure. He pulled out a packet of fags, and took out two with his lighter. He lit both, and then handed one to Bov.

'Thanks,' he murmured, putting the fag to his lips and taking a deep drag. His hand was shaking but it helped calm him. Bov turned, and sat on the bonnet, gazing up at the Abbey, up at the room where she was now. 'I fucked up.'

'It weren't your fault,' said Keith slowly. He wasn't at all great at this comforting thing. Bov sighed, exhaling the smoke through his nose.

'I just wanted this to end up well, and I've messed up, _again._'

'No, you haven't!'

'Oh, fuck off,' muttered Bov, touching the lit end of his fag and wincing when it burned. 'If I hadn't messed up, then Emma would be sat beside me now and we'd be chatting 'n shit.' Keith stayed quiet, taking his time to smoke his fag. Bov continued. 'I don't even know if I like her like that.'

'You do.'

'How you know?' he asked bluntly, taking another drag.

'You've not been you for months, Bov. You fucking obviously like her, if you've felt like shit all this time.' Bov paused, his gaze resting on Keith. He was right, but Bov shook his head.

'I can't let her… be with me.' God, this was so fucking embarrassing. Taking about things like this to Keith, wasn't much of a good idea. Keith frowned.

'Why?'

'Because look at my fucking life, mate. I live in a council flat, with a shit paying job. I'm hardly the safest person to be around, with all these firms after us. They could use 'er against us.' The two fell silent in thought, the only sound of them exhaling cigarette smoke, and a meowing cat in a near-by alley. Suddenly, Swill rushed out to them, a plaster stuck to the side of his head, an upset look on his face. Bovver wondered what was wrong, but somehow, he didn't need telling.

'Bov, its Emma.'

* * *

Pete had laid her on the sofa, and Terry was knelt by her side, bandaging up her arm with shaky hands. 'What happened?' Bovver asked when he shifted closer. She was pale, and Bovver didn't know whether it was her usual look, or because she had fainted, but it looked terrible nonetheless.

'She…. cut herself, Bov,' said Pete quietly, his gaze never leaving her face. Bov shook his head slowly. This was all because of him. He backed off, knowing that when she woke, he really shouldn't be the first thing she saw. Instead, he slid onto the window sill, pulling his lighter from his jacket pocket and watching the flame burn. Ned shifted to the armchair, and put on the TV. Just for something to do as they all waited. They didn't have to wait long.

'Oi, oi, she's moving,' Swill said, his voice urgent. Pete and Dave moved over, looking down at her with worry. Emma sat up, eyes wide, before she realized where she was. Then she looked down at her arm.

'Sorry. I don't think I did a good job,' said Terry, as he sat carefully on the coffee table. Bovver turned his gaze away from her as he noticed Emma about to look, instead flicking the lighter on and off. 'Are you hungry?' Terry continued. Emma looked back at him.

'No, I ate before I came.' She cleared her throat.

'Where've you been?' asked Swill. Pete and Bovver both shot him the same look; more important things mattered at the moment, but Emma didn't seem to mind.

'I… I was still there,' she said, her voice soft. She lay back down, her green eyes closing. He guessed she was tired, and Emma hugged herself. 'I don't want to talk about it.' Swill nodded, and sat back on his bum. It went quiet, the sound of the newsreader the only thing in the room.

'And news just in, the body of 39-year-old Jeremiah Cornell was found a short way from her home in East London.' Emma jerked upright, her shocked gaze on the TV. The rest of the group were either looking at her or at the TV. 'She was found beaten and strangled, at 7:49pm this evening. Her son, Benton Dexter Cornell has been arrested on suspicion of murder.' Emma slid off the sofa, crawling to the TV, murmuring to herself. 'Also, Dr James Dominic Matthews is being tracked down. He was seen fleeing the forest in a blue Peugeot. The Police say "They had worked together."' Emma placed her hands on the screen as a picture of a Jamaican woman came onto the screen. 'Jeremiah Cornell was killed in a horrific attack, by her own son and former employer, Dr James Matthews. We are holding Benton Cornell in over night, until the post mortem can tell us exactly what happened. The hunt is now on for James Matthews, who was seen fleeing the area minutes after her body was found.'

Terry moved across the room, and picked up the remote. Without a word, he turned off the TV. Dave moved quietly over to Emma, who was still pressed against the screen, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Bov watched, almost nervously, in case of another angry attack.

'Benton wouldn't do that,' Bovver just about heard her say. 'He was with me. He dropped me off, he couldn't. He wouldn't.' Bov moved over to her, not really knowing what he was doing. Dave stepped away, watching carefully, as he put his hands under Emma's arms and lifted her to her feet. She glanced back to see him, but didn't do, or say anything. He placed a hand on the small of her back, and steered her towards the door. And together, they left.

They moved out the Abbey, both tense and quiet.

'Emma…' He didn't know where to start, and helplessly trailed off. They continued to walk, until they found themselves at a deserted park. Emma took a seat on the bench, and he sat beside her.

'He hurt me,' she broke the silence. Bovver frowned, and glanced at her, before looking across at the bushes across the park from them.

'Who?' It didn't really take a genius to figure it out.

'Matthews,' she replied, her lips barely moving. Bov shifted.

'How?' Emma looked down at her stomach, eyes suddenly wide and child like.

'Doesn't matter.'

'Emma, I wanna help.'

'You can't. Not now. He'll get me like he got Jeremiah. Life's tough, I should accept that.' Bovver cleared his throat.

'Didja know that woman that was killed?' he asked. Emma nodded, eyes gazing at her lap. The silence lengthened, and he shifted, uncomfortable. 'You hate me, don't you.' It wasn't a question. Emma nodded again, a scowl appearing on her face. Good, he tried to convince himself. Turning her away wouldn't be as bad. Bov folded his arms with a sigh, sitting back.

'Jeremiah died 'cause of me,' she whispered, her eyes suddenly distant as she remembered something.

'Don't think like-'

'Shut up! She did. He musta found out she helped me escape and killed her.' Emma leaned forwards, putting her head in her hands. Bov shifted again, his hand reaching out to stroke her hair. And then he remembered he was suppose to be keeping her safe and pulled away. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. 'Pete said you loved me,' she murmured. Bovver froze, eyes widening slightly. For fuck sakes, Pete. You just made this much harder. Emma looked up at him, and flinched away from the dark look he shot her. Bov felt horrible, looking at her like this. But… she didn't know him. Emma could get hurt so easily, with him around. It was usually easier for him to just hate her. Love and Bovver didn't mix. He watched her shift away, and he instantly wanted to pull her close and apologize and kiss her and tell her he would look after her for the rest of her life. But of course, being Bovver, he didn't. He didn't do a fucking thing except sit there and glare at her. She looked away, rubbing her eyes.

'Emma…' he began.

'No, I understand,' she snapped, standing up. Bov frowned, as she hesitated, but just shook her hand and stalked off. Bov instantly followed her, falling into step beside Emma easily. Her face was hard, chin jutting out slightly. Emma stopped, her eyes on the lamppost ahead of them. Bovver looked, but there was nobody there.

'Emma?' asked Bov, standing a little apart from her, but still looking concerned. Emma turned to him, a numb look on her face.

'Stay out my life Bov. Just… don't bother.' She walked off down to road, back towards the Abbey, and he stood there, watching her retreating back, and wishing to hell, that things had gone differently. But they hadn't, and at that moment, Bovver fell apart.

* * *

**END NOTES: I hope you understand Bov's pain at the moment. I tried to control his feelings because i don't see Bov as a man that would show his emotions, so i tried my best to limit what he says. What did you think?**


	6. Apologies

**AUTHORS NOTE: Alright, i was going to end the story here, but i really don't want to, so time to bring in Matt Buckner! It will be a slash of OC and the movie, so prepare for Yank Abuse! Mwuahaha.  
Please review!**

* * *

Anything, but Ordinary

Chapter Six

Apologies

His flat was the thing Bovver mostly saw for the next week or so. When Pete and Dave finally coaxed him out, Emma just being there made it worst. She didn't talk to any of them unless they came to the bar, or when Swill ordered shots, and she brought them over, Emma ignored Bov and Bov ignored her. Life should have been simple. He had managed to get rid of her. That was a good thing, right?

Fuck, was it. He just wanted to be with her, in so many ways it was almost impossible. Now he realized what Ike had felt like, when he met Zoë and was head over heels in love with her.

In love. Euh.

What a horrible, stupid, unsatisfying word.

But he kept his distance, as she had asked. Bov would watch her, as she cleaned the bar and served drinks. Emma usually caught him looking, and her cheeks would turn bright red and she'd turn away. Pete still helped her out with rent. Well, they were more like best friends then Bov and Emma ever had been. It was either Pete or Benton she would be with. He tried to get along with the guys; it wasn't their fault he was like this, but the connection just wasn't there anymore. None of them understood. He was in this world of pain on his own. But it didn't stop them trying.

'Just talk to her, mate,' sighed Pete. Bovver slumped down on his sofa, cracking open a can of beer.

'It's not as easy as all that,' he replied, taking a drink of the refreshing liquid. Pete raised his eyebrows.

'How is it not easy? Just go down there and demand to talk to her. Tell her 'ow you feel.'

'I can't just fucking go down there! What if she flips out like before?' Bov shot his best mate a dark look, before turning his interest to the TV. Swill yawned. The guys were a little restless. The football season didn't start for another month, so there wasn't really much to do except get on with their lives. Mostly down the pub, but they still wanted a good fight.

'We should go down Birmingham and see if any of those twats ar' out,' said Swill, after a few minutes silence.

'No,' said Bov instantly. Swill sighed.

'Bov, that dick aint gunna come down and 'urt her. It will only be for a few hours, anyway.'

'How do you know that?' growled Bov, turning to glare at him. 'Just… she might be alone for one moment and he might come. You 'eard what he did to that nurse. I don't wanna be attending Emma's funeral, alright?' Swill went quiet, and sat back. Bov had been more protective of Emma then usual. He turned back to the TV, tapping his foot on the floor. Pete knew his mate was battling with the reasons of why he should and why he shouldn't go and see her. Bov sighed. If he went down there, she might have calmed down enough to want to talk to him. No, or she would have already. Maybe she is just shy? Emma, shy? Fuck off. Well, there is a chance she might take you back. She never had you, bruv, give over you fucking mug.

'Tell her how you feel,' Pete repeated calmly.

'Bruv, I fucked up.' He sat forwards, placing his can on the coffee table and running a hand through his hair. Something he did often, when he was stressed or nervous.

'How 'ave you fucked up? You haven't even spoken to her.' There was amusement in Pete's eyes. Bov could be such a girl when he wanted.

'No, you don't understand. You 'member when she found out the nurse was dead, and we went out, down Park?' he asked. Pete nodded. 'She said you 'ad told her I loved her.' Bov shot a scowl his way. 'And I made out that I hated her. So that's why I can't just go down there and fucking tell her that I do…' he shook his head. 'It'll confuse her and I just can't do it, okay.' Pete sighed, and leaned forward, a smile on his lips.

'Mate, you can't let her get away. You'll be mooching around with a face like a slapped arse for the rest of your life if you don't tell her now.' Bov looked up, and the two men stared at each other. Maybe… maybe Pete was right. It was worth a try anyway, how much more of a fuck up could he make? Bovver nodded.

'Alright.'

* * *

'No fucking way,' he growled.

'Ah, come on, mate!' grinned Swill, perched on the end of Bov's bed. Bovver backed off, staring at the pink shirt Swill had found for him.

'How fucking gay is that?!' He glared at Pete, who was roaring with laughter.

'You gotta make a good impression,' smirked Dave, a bag of minstrels in his hands.

'I'm off to make her take me back, not going to a fucking Scissor Sisters concert.'

'Nah, if you was going to a Scissor Sisters concert,' piped up Ned. 'You'd 'ave to wear tight leather pants.'

'Like you do at the weekend?' interjected Ike. Ned flicked him the finger, but Bov shook his head.

'I can't. I'll look like a dick. What's wrong with what I'm wearing?' Bov looked down at his scruffy jeans and blue t-shirt, but Swill shook his head.

'Bovver, you either go in a shirt, or I make you go naked,' he threatened. Bovver rolled his eyes, and pulled off his shirt over his head. 'Euh! Give me a chance to look away!' complained Swill, covering his eyes. Bov pulled the pink shirt over his arms, and buttoned it up, a less than happy look on his face.

'Ah, it won't be that bad mate.'

'Will be when I come back with my fucking eyes scratched out,' he grumbled, grabbing his parka and pulling it on. He zipped it all the way up, so the pink shirt couldn't be seen. 'Right, I'm off,' he sighed. Pete grinned, moving over to pull him into a hug.

'Good luck,' he beamed. Bovver nodded, before sighing, and walking out.

* * *

There was a light on in the window of Emma's bedroom. Casting about, Bovver picked up a stone, before hurling it at the window. It hit it quite hard. Picking up another from the damp road, he chucked it. It bounced off the window sill. Emma appeared at the window, before yanking up the frame, frowning down at me.

'What do you want?' she hissed. He gazed up at her, not really knowing where to start.

'I'm sorry about what I said.' It was pathetic, and obviously, Emma must have thought so too, as she went to shut the window again. 'Wait! Emma, 'ear me out, please.' She sighed, folding her arms and glaring down at him.

'You have two minutes.' Bovver stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and scuffed his trainers on the ground.

'I really am sorry about what I fucking cunt I am, but, you have to believe me. I never kissed that girl! She came onto me, and when I saw you… I just wanted to be near you and…' He growled. 'I'm so crap at this speech stuff.'

'One minute left,' Emma said firmly. Bovver frowned for a moment.

'I should never have allowed you to be taken. I should of fought harder. I would kill that bastard if he ever touched you again Emma! For fuck sakes, I love you.' Emma still gazed down at him, unsure.

'But you… you were…' she stuttered.

'I didn't want to get too attached! I… my life is…' Bovver didn't know how to explain it to her. 'Fucking hell, I'm messing this up, aren't I?' Emma nodded, face hardening slightly. 'Emma, I 'ave never had much in life. My childhood was shit, and I've never met anyone like you before. I didn't know how to act around you, so I tried so 'ard to keep my distance. That's why I acted like I didn't even like you that night at the park and I'm a twat for doing that!' Emma's hard gaze softened slightly, and Bovver took this as a good sign. He noticed she was crying.

'Your two minutes are up,' she said, voice hardly a whisper. She shut the window and moved away. Bov stared up, feeling lost. With a last glance at the pub, Bovver turned his back, and slouched off down the street. Footsteps hammered after him, and with a frown, he turned. He only just caught Emma, as she threw herself at him, legs going tight around his waist.

'I love you too!' she muttered, her hands running through his hair, as her lips pressed hard against his. Bov's hand moved to her waist, holding her close to his chest. 'Abbey,' she murmured, and without having to be asked twice, he made his way over there. When they got into the hallway, Emma slid off him, locking the door and grabbing his hand. They crept upstairs, Bov's body buzzing with adrenalin. Things had changed so quickly, it was a little hard for him to keep up. Emma tugged him into her room, and shut the door after him. She pulled him onto the bed, and Bovver pinned her to it, sliding on top of her. Her hands were at the zipper of his parka, and she unzipped it, tugging it off his arms, his lips still working against hers in primal desperation. Bovver's hand moved up the inside of her thigh, but Emma pushed away and sat up, chest heaving as she got her breath back. He frowned. Was she having second thoughts? Would she prefer to fucking hate him?

'What's wrong?'

'I want this to last,' she replied. Bov felt a relieved smile come to his lips. He shifted forward, his fingers brushing her jaw, before he placed his lips against hers. His tongue ran along her bottom lip and she granted him entrance, into a deep, slow kiss. She managed to get his jacket off, dumping it on the floor as his fingers moved to her t-shirt, breaking the kiss only to pull it over her head. Her fingers unbuttoned his pink shirt, and he was quite pleased that she didn't notice the colour. Then, Emma laid back, eyes on him. Bov ran his fingers down her stomach, feeling a little saddened as they brushed her ribs, shown from her lack of appetite. He wished she wouldn't starve herself. Then, he moved his gaze to the scars that patterned her stomach. There was one that looked all too familiar. A smiley face, made obviously by a lighter. He noticed her wince and move, when he touched it.

'What 'appened?' he asked, meeting her gaze.

'Dr Matthews did it,' she replied, her green eyes filling up. Bovver felt sick. That fucking cunt would pay, for hurting Emma like that. He guessed that he had done all the other cuts over her stomach as well, 'cause they looked quite recent. A tear fell, so Bov leaned forward, placing a kiss at the corner of her smooth lips, his fingers leaving the damage of her belly to play with the lace of her blue bra. Then he trailed it down her scarred arm, and up again. Emma smiled, as he touched her collar bone, his fingers finally resting against her cheek. She was amazing. Amazing and he loved her and he never wanted to let her go. This was one thing other than the firm that actually gave him a reason to live, a reason to be alive.

'You're beautiful,' he told her. Emma sat up, kissing him softly. He moved to his side, as her small hand brushed down his chest and he felt nervous. This was mainly the reason that he wanted to keep her safe from the bad world. Her fingers brushed his scar and with a frown, she looked down. He did also, gazing at the scar he looked at in the mirror every morning. It was long, running from his stomach to his side.

'What happened?' she asked, green eyes meeting his blue ones.

'I told you my childhood was shit.' He could say that again. 'My mum had this guy round for a couple of months, and I guess we didn't see eye-to-eye.' Emma sighed. Yeah, Bov's childhood _had_ been shit. He remembered well, when Tommy Hatcher had dated his mother, and how crazy he had gone when his son had been killed. Bovver had been at the wrong place at the wrong time, and now this scar was the memory of what had happened.

'I guess we're not so different.' Bov smiled, his hands enveloping her to unclip her bra. It fell off with ease, and he dropped it off the bed. He kissed her neck gently, and Emma shut her eyes. He tugged off his jeans, and kicked them off, before sliding in-between her legs. Emma let out a soft moan, and he ran his hand through her hair. He never wanted this to end.

* * *

'FUCKIN 'ELL?!' Bov gave a yawn as a voice broke him from his slumber.

'What is it?' he asked, still too sleepy to put everything together. The door was slammed shut, and Emma giggled at his side. He rubbed his eyes, gazing at the angel beside him. Then, it seemed, everything came back to him. The dark night, damp bodies moving together, moans and groans, name calling, collapsing from the effect of the climax. Emma looked at him with a smile, cupping his cheek and kissing him.

'Mornin'' he said, lying back down. Emma grabbed her t-shirt and slid it over her head. Bov sighed inaudibly, as he caught sight of her cut, raw and angry on her arm. 'Don't hurt yourself again. Please.' Emma's brow creased in a frown, and she looked down, to see him looking at the word, H A T E. She went quiet, and he watched her carefully. 'Please, Emma.' She rested back again his chest with a smile. Bovver wrapped his arms around her torso, holding her close.

'I promise.' Those words meant a hell of a lot to him.

* * *

Bovver walked down the road, Pete, Ike and Swill at his side. Ned and Keith brought up the rear.

'Where's Dave?' asked Ned, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

'Gone to see 'ow Emma is,' replied Pete, with a yawn. They were meeting up, ready to head down to the Abbey. Even though they would see her there, Bovver still felt a little awkward and wanted to see if she was still in a happy mood before he turned up. They had taken the Canal Walk, as it was a nice day, and gave them a chance to chill. A man walking towards them, moved to the side to let them past. His brown hair was tousled and dirty, rough stubble on his chin from weeks without shaving. He looked almost familiar. The man's brown eyes met his as they passed, and Bovver froze.

'What is it?' asked Keith, bumping into the back of him. Bov turned to the man, who was now darting away from them. He took chase, the guys thundering after him, but many years of smoking made him slower, so Pete ran ahead, slamming the man into the wall, causing him to fall. Bovver slowed, yanking him upright.

'Matthews,' he spat. Pete nodded, when he realized who it was.

'Alright, boys?' he asked, a smirk on his chapped lips.

'Great, mate. You've made my fucking day,' growled Bov. All he could think of was the image of the smiley face lighter burn on the stomach of his girlfriend. He slammed his knee into Matthews's stomach, causing the older man to bend double, wheezing. Swill pulled out his phone, simply calling Dave. He stepped away, holding the phone to his ear.

'Oi, Dave, we found that doctor that 'urt Emma. Come down, Walsh Canal, alright? 'Urry up, okay. Think Bov might loose the plot if he 'as to wait any longer. Yeah, see ya.' Swill hung up, and looked up at Pete.

'He's on his way,' he told him. Bov grabbed his throat, slamming his head back against the wall with a crack.

'Bov…' warned Pete, stepped forwards slightly. Bov didn't say anything, but gave Matthew's a right hook in the jaw. Blood dribbled from his mouth.

'Bov,' repeated Pete calmly. He glanced at the taller man, and gave a small nod. He had to control himself, but every time he looked at the fucking cunt, he felt sick. Bovver could hear a car engine heading towards them, and knew who it was without taking his eyes off Matthews. He kept a good hold of the Doctor' throat, jaw set, eyes hard. The car skidded to a stop, and footsteps raced towards them. Matthews looked over Bov's shoulder, a smirk playing on his blood splattered lips.

'The party's complete!' he smiled. 'You were always my favourite.' Bovver opened his mouth to growl something unpleasant, but Emma moved beside him, smashing a rock across his face. The man rocked sideways, and Bov struggled to hold him upright for a moment. Swill shot Emma a gleeful look, dancing around them, ready for a chance to hit him. Matthews spat out blood. 'I like girls who fight dirty. It turns me on.' Bovver pulled a sour face, tightening his grip on his throat.

'Don't fucking talk 'bout her like that!' he snarled, face inches from Matthews, who merely grinned.

'Good catch, by the way. She's great in bed.' Bovver shook his head. Didn't this twat know when to stop, or did he get pleasure out of pain? Most likely the fucking latter. Ignoring the look that Pete shot him, he punched Matthew's hard and kneed him in the gut, wanting him to feel as much pain as possible.

Pete ran a hand over his cropped hair, shaking his head a little. Yeah, he was fucking disgusted at what this man had gone, and wanted him to get beaten, but if Bovver carried on, he may go down for murder, and they really didn't need that.

'Don't talk 'bout her!' Bov snapped, chucking the doctor to the floor. Emma folded her arms, eyes narrowed in a glare as she assessed the man.

'Her tits are lovely,' he gasped, after a couple of breaths. Emma blushed fiercely, stepping away, but there was no stopping Bov. Before Pete could hold him back, he was on top of Matthews, fists pummeling him wherever he could.

'You dirty fucker,' snarled Swill, face contorted in anger. He raised his boot, slamming it in Matthew's chest. There was a snap, and Swill took a surprised step backwards, but didn't look sorry.

'Come on,' Pete said firmly, grabbing Bov's arms, and with Keith's help, hauling him up. Bovver's foot smashed out, hitting the doctor's jaw hard. Matthew's groaned, rolling onto his back, his face a mess. He coughed up blood, and Ike kicked him onto his side. 'Bov, leave it, mate,' said Pete through gritted teeth, as he almost lost hold of Bov, who strained forwards. Emma moved between Matthews and Bov, placing her hands on his chest. Their eyes met, both filled with pain and anger.

'Bovver, please. We'll call the police and they'll deal with him,' she said, in a quiet voice. Bov shook Pete off, looking over Emzie's shoulder.

'You're a fucking cunt,' he spat. Matthews tried to move, but the pain was too much. 'I hope you fuckin' rot.' Dave pulled out his mobile, dialing three numbers and waiting patiently, eyes never leaving Matthews. After a minute or two of talking quietly, he hung up, pocketing his mobile.

'They're on their way,' he said, a grave expression on his face as he looked down at the older man. Bovver started to walk off, Emma right behind him. They turned a corner, and he turned, pulling her into a hug. Emma shut her eyes, hands gripping his arms through his jacket.

'He can't hurt you know,' he said, knowing Matthews couldn't. Bovver wouldn't let it happen. He kissed the top of her head as she replied.

'As long as you're with me.'

'I will be,' he murmured. Emma shifted, taking one of his hands in hers. Her fingers brushed the cuts and blood on his knuckles. He let out an almost ashamed sigh. She shouldn't of had to see that. 'Sorry. I… couldn't stop myself. Knowing what that bastard did to you…' Bov shook his head. Her hands left his hand to cup his face, and they kissed. Bov looked up when sirens made themselves known. He didn't need to be here now. Taking her hand, he led her down an alley and out into the street. Up ahead was the Abbey. Without a word, they walked towards it.

* * *

The group sat in Terry's living room, watching the evening news. Pete lounged in the armchair, a frown as his face as he listened. 'James Matthews have been arrested for the murder of asylum nurse, Jeremiah Cornell. Matthews had eluded police for a couple of weeks, and was found, beaten almost to death near Walsh Canal. He is being treated for his injuries, which consist of three broken ribs, a fractured collar bone and a snapped wrist, as well as numerous cuts and bruises, at a nearby hospital, under police supervision, and will be taken to prison a week on Sunday. In other news-' Emma shut off the TV, tossing the remote to the side, before placing her head on Bov's shoulder.

'You did that,' she murmured. Bovver shifted uncomfortably, before noticing the smile on her lips, but it wasn't anythink to be proud of. Even if the twat deserved it.

'Actually, I think I broke his ribs,' said Swill, in a cheery voice. He took a drag of his fag, and blew out a smoke ring before adding, 'Fucking kicked him good and proper.'

'Yeah, well, he deserved everything he got.' Emma sat up. 'I got a text off Benton,' she said, a grin on her lips. 'He just got into Jamaica. He's with his family now.' Bov sat back, as her smile faded. He frowned, as she looked at him, her hand moving to squeeze his. 'Do you love me?' Bovver smiled. Was that all she was worried about?

'Yeah. Why?' He worried the same worry he worried almost every minute of the day. Was she having second thoughts?

'Am I your family then?' Oh, good she wasn't. The thing he feared worst, was loosing her like he lost every thing else.

'Yeah. As long as you want me,' he smiled. Emma leaned up, to place a kiss on his lips. Swill made a puking gesture, and Dave grinned.

'Always,' she murmured.

'Well, we'll leave you to it!' said Pete, clapping his hands and un-reclining the armchair. Swill got to his feet and stretched.

'Beer's on Ned,' he said, with a grin. Ned rolled his eyes.

'I 'ave no money anyway, so fuck you,' the shorter man muttered.

'On Dave then?' asked Swill, turning his gaze to his old friend.

'Why always on me?'

'Oh, maybe because you 'ave the job that pays the most?' he said, sarcastically. He glanced back at Emma and Bovver, who hadn't moved. 'Jesus, you not had your tea tonight, love?' Bovver gave him two fingers over her shoulder and he laughed.

'Come on, Pervy,' grinned Pete, pushing Swill towards the door. Emma giggled against Bov's lips, and leaned back to kiss his cheek.

'Come on, drinks on you,' she smiled.

'Alright,' he replied, following her out the room. Maybe things would look up after all.

* * *

**END NOTES: Alright, go back to Emma's story, as i will continue on that one. And then come back to this one after AbOEmma is finished (again!) :)**


	7. Fucking Yank

**AUTHORS NOTE: I'm having a really shit day today. My best friend is being a bitch and i leant out my Green Street DVD and it's come back scratched. And i have a very big head ache. **

**So, sorry if this reflects on my writing. I have to go and see if my DVD even works now :(**

* * *

Anything, but Ordinary

Chapter Seven

Fucking Yank

2 months later

Bov stared into the dregs of his pint, a sigh escaping his lips. Two months he 'ad been with Emma now, and he missed her like mad when she was gone. Even if it was merely her going with one of the guys to pick up some money, he still missed her. He hoped her and Pete would get back soon.

Picking up his glass, Bovver moved back to the bar.

'Fosters,' he asked Terry, fishing the money out his wallet. Terry made the pint, and handed it to him with a grin. Taking the money, he cashed it, and handed Bovver his change. 'Thanks,' he muttered, pulling out his mobile as it vibrated; a text from Pete.

**Shannon brother coming with me. Be back in about ten. Pete.**

Bov shook his head and pocketed his mobile. Shannon the Yank. Shannon's brother. A Yank.

It didn't sound very good to him. Sitting down at the table, he sparked up, exhaling in Ned's face.

'Watch it,' he complained, with a cough. Bovver got to his feet, and headed towards the male toilets. His good day gone down the fucking drain. He took a leak, before washing his hands, gazing up at his reflection. His fag was hanging out his mouth, a cut by his eye from the last fight with a group of Tottenham twats. He gave a small laugh, shaking his head. Moving across the toilets, he grabbed some tissue and dried his hands slowly. He didn't want to go out there. Not if that fucking Yank was going to be there. He was getting on Bov's nerves already, and he hadn't even met him yet. He dawdled for a little longer, before making his way out the toilets. He could see the Yank up ahead, sat in his usual seat.

'Like Bees and Honey for money?' he asked, looking at Pete who nodded. His voice was irritating. A whole day of this and he'd go mad.

'Or Struggle and Grunt for cunt!' grinned Swill, who had Emma in a headlock. He let her go, and she elbowed him in the head as she stood up.

'Oh, you went dark, why'd you go there?' complained Dave.

'Like Septic Tank for Yank,' Bov muttered, eyes still on the back of the American's head. He walked forward, face hard.

'Bovver!' Pete grinned. Emma moved past Keith, chucking herself at him. She planted a kiss on his cheek, as he placed his hand on her waist. Showing the Yank she was his, so he wouldn't get any ideas.

'Alright?' he asked her.

'This is Matt, Shannon's brother,' introduced Pete. Matt turned in his seat, a smile on his face.

'Hey.' He held out his hand. Offended, Bov looked away, taking a drag on his almost finished fag. Emma took a step back, seeming uncertain of his reaction.

'He don't give a fuck!' laughed Swill. Dave chuckled.

'Mate, he's practically family,' said Pete. There was disappointment in his voice, but also a tone that told Bov, Pete knew he would react like this. Bovver shrugged, and Dave snorted into his pint.

'Ah, mate, he's fucking painful!' Pete gave a laugh, sitting back down and gazing up at his best mate. Emma folded her arms with a tut.

'Bov's a miserable cunt,' Pete smiled, and Bov glanced at him.

'You can say that again,' he heard Emma mutter. He looked up at her, but she turned away and moved towards the bar.

'Matt, grab these last two pints for us,' called Ike. Matt got to his feet.

'Oh, Matt, while you're up there, get us some salted peanuts, please,' grinned Dave.

'Sure,' Matt replied. Bovver's eyes followed Matt to the bar, before he took the Yanks seat.

'Bov, come on,' sighed Pete.

'What's with all the fucking babysitting?' he growled in reply. 'You know we had a meet set up for today.'

'I'll stay out the way,' smiled Pete, sitting forward. 'It's not like we didn't 'ave it last night.'

'What?' scowled Bov. 'That's not the bloody point, is it?' Emma walked over, placing to beers on the table. 'We look like right mugs if we set summing up, and our fearless leader don't show 'cause he's playing pin the tail on the fucking Yank.'

'He's right,' interjected Ned, popping a peanut in his mouth. 'He's got a point.'

'You let me worry about that, all right, boys?' Bovver knew Pete was talking more to him than the boys. Matt returned to the table, placing down to pints and chucking Dave his peanuts. Without another word, Bovver got to his feet, grabbed his pint and moved to the bar. Keith followed, leaning against the bar next to him.

'What the fuck is Pete playing at?' he grumbled. Keith nodded.

'Bringin' a Yank down 'ere? Stupid.'

'If the other firms 'ere 'bout this…' Bovver trailed off, trying to ignore the fact that Emma was over there with him now. Terry moved past them with a small pink bag. Bovver shook his head. 'I shouldn't 'ave to leave my table just 'cause he's 'ere,' he said, in a hard voice. Keith nodded.

'He won't last through the football.' A small smile came to Bov's lips.

'He'll be torn to shreds.' Keith chuckled into his pint, before Bov turned and led the way back to the table. He sat down, and Emma climbed over to get to him. Bov pulled her onto his lap.

'You alright, darlin'?' he asked, in a quiet voice. Emma smiled, pressing her lips against his.

'Get a room!' laughed Ned. Bov placed his hand on her waist, as she ran her hand through his hair.

'Aw, guys! I did it and you missed it,' moaned Matt, breaking through his and Emma's little bubble. Bov broke apart, a glum look on his face.

'You'll have to do it again then, mate,' Pete replied.

'Ah, come on!' complained Matt.

'Nah, we missed it. How we know you not cheated?' enquired Ned.

'Yeah, you might 'ave poured it on the floor or summing,' said Swill, seriously. Matt didn't say anything as he sparked up.

'After this, I will,' he promised, taking a drag. Emma rolled onto Bov's other side, resting her head on his chest.

'When's the next match?' she asked Bov. He stretched, before leaning over and taking the lit fag Keith was holding out. He took a drag, before looking into her bright green eyes.

'This afternoon,' he replied, cautiously. She sat up, eyes narrowed.

'This afternoon?! When were you going to tell me?!' Emma folded her arms over her chest, a pout beginning to form.

'I'm sorry, babe,' he sighed, sitting up and taking her hand. 'It's important…'

'And I'm not?'

'Yes, you are. This is different though.' He didn't think she would ever really understand what this firm meant to him. That's why they had employed Terry to fill her in. If him and 'er were serious, she needed to know. Emma shook her head.

'Just don't hurt yourself. If I can manage it, so can you.' Bovver smiled, leaning forward to kiss the top of her head.

'How do I know that you lot can down as well?' Matt continued the earlier conversation.

''Cause we can!' said Ike, with a laugh.

'Well, let's race. Looser has to pay for the winners drink,' Emma said, turning slightly to face to table, a grin on her face.

'Alright,' smiled Pete, moving to the bar and talking to Terry. Terry poured four beers, and Pete brought them back over.

'Looser pays,' he smiled.

'Three, two, one…. Go!' Emma gave a cheer, as Dave, Matt, Ike and Pete began to drink. Ike was the first to win, as usual; he was the downing champion. Dave second, which was surprising, but Bov guessed Pete was just being slow for Matt.

'He's now officially cockney, da boy,' grinned Ned.

'Hand over the money, Yank!' laughed Ike, holding out his hand. Matt shook his head with a chuckle wiping his chin on the back of his hand and fishing the new English money out his jacket. He tossed it over to Ike, who grinned.

'Drinks on me!' Caitlin decided it was her time to swoop over. Her hair browny red hair, that had been crimped, and was falling over her shoulder. Her beaky eyes scanned the group, finally rested on Matt, deciding he would be her prey. Then, a smile came to her face, as she handed Pete the tray of shots.

'Who's this?' she asked, taking a quick glance over her shoulder at Lauren and Shelby, still by the bar. He noticed Emma give them evils.

'I'm Matt,' he replied. Caitlin sat down, half on his stool.

'I'm Caitlin! Wanna drink later?' Her eyes widened slightly, trying to be tempting.

'Oh, erm… sure,' he shrugged. Swill covered his face with his hands, body shaking in laughter. Caitlin gave a huge smile that showed off her horsey teeth, before strolling off to her friends. 'What?' Matt frowned, glancing at Swill who was crying.

'You don't even know who she is!' he laughed. Dave grinned.

'You seriously need to revise your answer, son.'

'Why?' Matt protested, gazing from one laughing face to another.

'Lemmie tell you summing about Caitlin. She's been around the block a bit,' smiled Pete.

'Crabs, Gonorrhoea, Herpes, she's had them all,' grinned Swill. Matt looked astonished.

'One person had all that?'

'And more,' winked Ned. Matt shuddered.

'She's like one big disease machine,' piped up Ike. Matt picked up his shot.

'Just get these down you,' he muttered. Everyone leaned forward to get a shot, circling around the table. Bov got to his feet, grabbing the small glass, and watching Emma stand on the seats, leaning against Ike. He was just about to drink, when she yanked him back, causing the shot to spill down his chin and shirt.

'Opps, fell!' Emma laughed, placing a kiss on his cheek, and jumping off the chair. Bov tried not to get jealous, knowing they were just friends, but still… He swallowed his shot, looking down as Emma wrapped her arms around his waist.

'Oi, Bov, we need you on the stage,' laughed Swill, making his way to them, and pulling Emma's arms away. 'Come on, let your fella sing his heart out.' Bov placed a quick kiss on her cheek, before he moved through the crowd, and climbing onto a table. He looked over as Emma got placed on the bar, and he burst into West Ham pre-match celebration.

'Oh, East London! Is wonderful! Oh East London is wonderful! It's full of tits, fanny at West Ham! Oh, East London is wonderful!' Bovver noticed everything that Emma and the Yank were doing. Her fingers ran through his hair, the way she did with him, as he leaned into her. 'Oh, East London!'

_'Oh, East London!'_

'Is wonderful!'

_'Is wonderful!'_

'Oh, East London is wonderful! It's full of tits fanny at West Ham! Oh East London is wonderful!' Bovver watched Emma carefully, as she played with Matt's hair, feeling anger and jealousy rise in him. Who did this fucker think he is, coming in here and changing everything? They didn't need him here. 'Stick a blue flag up your arse!' he sang, eyes never leaving Matt's figure, half hidden in the crowd. Emma shifted, thankfully moving to play with Dave's hair.

'Hit the wall! Hit the wall! Hit the wall! Hit the wall! We are the Millwall haters! We hate Millwall! We hate Millwall!' The crowd chanted. Then, the song changed, to the song they had all really been waiting for, as extra oomph was added to the singing.

'I'm forever blowing bubbles, pretty bubbles in the air! They fly so 'igh, they reach the sky, and like my dreams, they fade and die! Fortunes always 'iding, I've looked everywhere, I'm forever blowing bubbles, pretty bubbles in the air!' He could hear Emma's tinkling laugh, a small smile coming to his lips.

'Let's go fucking mental! Let's go fucking mental!' Bovver caught sight of Matt moving towards the toilets, and without a word to Danny singing next to him, he climbed off the table, and followed him. Matt was by the sink when he burst in, a grim look on his face.

'Friend of the family, eh?' he muttered, stepping forward. 'Pete might be showing you a bit of courtesy, you being Shannon's brother n' all.' Bovver stepped forward, until his face was inches away from Matt's. 'But get it straight, we don't like outsiders.' Bov paused, eyes narrowing briefly. 'Keep your hands to yourself,' he spat, 'if you know what's good for you.' Turning his back, Bovver moved over to the urinal, unzipping his jeans. Matt said nothing as he walked out.

* * *

Bovver moved past Pete, grabbing his parka and pulling it on. Emma moved over to him, as he shot Matt a glare over her shoulder. She squeezed his hand.

'Bov, please. Just have fun at the match, okay?' she sighed. Bov looked down into her eyes, his fingers brushing against the skin of her jaw, tilting her head up to look at him. He leant forward, kissing her softly.

'See you later,' he murmured.

'Bye,' she replied, kissing him once more. Bov pulled away, following the others out. Matt was just in front of him, taking his time getting out the door. Bovver shoved past him, before walking off down the street, zipping up his parka as he went. He pulled out his fags from his pocket, sparking up, and exhaling in a puff of smoke.

_'I'm forever blowing bubbles!_

_Pretty bubbles in the air!_

_They fly so high_

_They reach the sky_

_And like my dreams_

_They fade and die!_

_Fortunes always hiding!_

_I've looked everywhere!_

_I'm forever blowing bubbles_

_Pretty bubbles in the air!_

_United!_

_United!_

_United!'_

* * *

**END NOTES:Please review.**


	8. Two fights and a note

**AUTHORS NOTE:Well, here is the next update! I hoped you like it, as i am quite pleased with it myself!!**

* * *

Anything, but Ordinary

Chapter Eight

Two fights and a note

Bovver's eyes darkened slightly as he gazed over at the Zulu's, cheering for the shit team they support. He disappeared from his mates, heading down the steps, and into the small corridor which would be full at half time. Checking he wasn't being watched, he snuck into the security room, just beside the mini burger palace. A light flickered over head, as Bov grabbed an orange bib, and pulled it on. He quickly left the room, jogging back up the steps, and back into the crowds.

Moving past the barrier, he nodded to another guard, who let him past without a word. Numb bastards. He could hear Rickey, main lad of the Zulu's shouting now, and the sound made his blood boil. Bovver strode towards their stand, putting up his hood when he got closer. Slowing to a stop in front of them, his eyes met Rickey's.

'Dirty northern bastards!'

'You fucking wanker!' yelled Rickey, when he realized who was shouting.

'Come on, you fucking Zulu cunt!' Bovver yelled back. The crowds were pushing and shoving to get to him. It was almost amusing. 'I want you, you cunt! You fucking mug!' he tormented. Bovver felt his arms grabbed, and he was yanked backwards. 'Come on!' he yelled, flipping them the finger. 'GS fucking E!' He could hear the lads cheering loudly, as he was practically dragged from the pitch. They hauled him down the stairs, tearing the bib from him.

'Alright, get off,' Bov said, shrugging them away. The two men grabbed an elbow each and steered him from the grounds.

'There's always one,' the short one muttered, his blood shot eyes fixed on the exit in front of him. They pushed Bovver out, and shut the gate.

'Wanker!' spat Bovver, walking off. He sat down by the wall, checking his watch and rubbing his hair. Just another hour to wait.

* * *

'There he is,' Bov heard Dave said, as he took a drag. 'Oi, Bov. Fucking quality, son, fucking quality!' Bovver turned, not allowing a smile to pass over his lips.

'Stuff of legend,' beamed Pete, stepped forwards and giving him a hug. Bov gave a shrug.

'Well, you 'ad your hands full, didn't you, bruv.'

'Ah, don't worry; it aint over yet, boys. Word is these twats are gunna have a pop,' Dave smiled.

'What you heard?' asked Pete eagerly. Bovver stared intently at Dave.

'Ah, the usual; fucking Zulu's. There's like 15 more of them mobbing up the tube right now. Its gunna kick off near East Ham.'

'Time to go then, boys,' Bov grunted.

'What are we standin' 'ere for?' asked Swill. 'I don't understand.'

'Let's get 'em.' Pete started forward, to lead the way.

'Maybe I should head home,' piped up Matt. Everyone had seemed to forget about them in their excitement for another fight. Pete turned back to him.

'You know where you're going?' he asked. 'Back to Shan's?'

'Bank Station, right?'

'Yeah. Keep your head down,' Pete warned. 'Bloody Birmingham lot will be on the Tube.'

'It's alright, I'll manage,' smiled Matt.

'For fuck sakes, wouldn't he be better in a crèche?' snapped Bovver, staring at Matt with narrowed eyes before he turned away. Why were they all worried about him? If he got attacked, who cared? It was his own fault for bein' 'ere in the first place.

'Don't get on at East Ham,' Pete warned again. 'If you see any trouble, turn around and walk the other way.'

'Don't worry,' Matt said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking off with the flow of the crowd.

'Let's go, eh?' smiled Pete.

'About time,' Bovver muttered, ignoring the look the blonde shot him. After a moment, Pete stopped, and nodded the others back over. 'What now?' sighed Bovver, exhaling the smoke through his nose, as Ned stopped beside him.

'Zulu's are followin' Matt.'

'Good, they'll do us all a favour,' Bovver muttered.

'Then we can follow them,' said Dave, catching on.

'So, the Yank is bait?' grinned Swill. He seemed to like the idea of that. Pete nodded, watching Rickey and his three friends disappear around a corner.

'Bov, go get more boys. I don't think the Zulu's will go down that easy, after last time.'

* * *

'I bet the Major gave out his share of Chelsea grins, back in the good old days, eh? Back in the days when the GSE weren't so sloppy to leave one of their own behind.' Pete restrained the urge to laugh, before he leapt forward, head butting Rickey hard.

'We don't leave our mates behind,' he snarled, before grabbing Matt. He pushed him forward, his arm over him for protection. Swill slammed his elbow into Chad's gut, a growl escaping his lips, as the black man fell.

'You 'orrible bastard!' Dave put a hand on his jaw, as Billy darted away. 'Look, he's getting away! Let's go! Come on!' The guys took chase, Matt wiping the blood from his lips.

'I'll get the van!' yelled Ike, heading off in the other direction. Dave staggered to a stop.

'Where the fuck's he gone?' asked Swill, looking put-out.

'He's two foot small, where the fuck is he?' Dave spat on the ground, bending forward with his hands on his knees. 'I'm getting to old for this shit,' he sighed. 'Seriously, I could use a beer and a lie-down.' He gave a chuckle, straightening up as a horn beeped and Ike came round the corner in their van.

'Oh, 'ere he is.'

'Get it out first,' said Pete.

'Can't get it out of your mum,' replied Ike, with a wink. Dave slapped his hand.

'Well, she 'as to be financed, guys, right?' said Dave, before pulling open the van door and climbing in.

'Come on, back to the Abbey.'

'Whose round is it?' asked Pete, with a frown.

'Whose round do you think? It's always my fucking round,' complained Dave.

'It's your round, init Ned?' asked Keith, sparking up.

'It's not mine round, it's yours,' muttered Ned.

'Oh, shut up moaning.'

'It stinks.'

'Ah, it stinks of-' A brick hit the windshield hard, smashing it. Billy stuck up his fingers.

'Fuck off!' he yelled, before darting away.

'Come on, boys. Let's fucking 'ave him!' Pete darted out the van, the group racing after him.

'Zulu! Zulu! Zulu! Zulu!' The chanting could be heard before they could see them. They rounded a corner, staring at the fifteen or so guys all stood there, waving planks of wood and holding bricks. It didn't matter to any of them.

'Well, come on, then!' Swill practically screamed. 'What you fucking standing there for, you cunts?' The Zulu's started to chuck the bricks, and bottles. Matt jumped as one soared past him, another smashing Ike on the side of the head. He staggered backwards with a cry. Matt grabbed Pete's arm.

'Let's get out of here!'

'What?' asked Pete, glancing at him, before looking back at the crowd.

'There's like twenty guys!'

'You don't run,' growled Pete. 'Not when you're with us. You stand your ground and fight!'

'Fight? I don't know how to fight,' the Yank protested.

'Just think of someone you hate,' Pete advised, before jumping forward. 'Come on, then! Fucking, come on!' And the GSE raced forward.

Matt didn't know what to do. Everyone was yelling, and fists were being swung everywhere. He ran forward, straight into the fist of Billy. Falling onto the floor, a grim line appeared on the Yanks lips.

'_Come on, Buckner. Just have a snort, or I'll punch you,' smirked Jeremy, indicating to the line of coke on his computer desk. Matt shook his head._

'_I'd rather not.'_

'_Come on. You're a freshman, you have to.'_

'_No,' Matt repeated, turning his back, and putting his books in his bag. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he was turned around, and slammed into the wall. _

'_Do as I fucking say. Have a snort.'_

'_Jeremy, please,' Matt protested, struggling fruitlessly against him. Jeremy shook his head with a laugh, leaning in close. _

'_Snort it,' he whispered._

'_I don't want to!' Jeremy sighed, backing off. Matt only had a second to think he was safe, until his fist was slammed in Matt's face. _

'Get up, you fucking twat! Come one!'

Jumping to his feet, Matt swung his arms at Billy, who managed to dodge successfully, until the fourth swing. His fist bashed Billy around the head, and the small man fell, and lay motionless. His eyes widened briefly, as he realized what he had done. Matt raced towards another guy, managing to knock him over. He slammed a large guy into a wall, smacking him before he could retaliate.

'Ah, you fucking… get off!' he heard Pete yell. Turning around, he saw Pete grabbed from behind. He raced forwards to help, but an arm shot out, catching him around the throat. Matt fell backwards, winded.

'Come on!' Bovver gave a yell, racing around the corner, twenty lads on his tail. He swung into battle, smacking one guy to the ground, and elbowing another. The West Ham boys swept through the tunnel, managing to flood out the Zulu's.

Bovver sauntered forwards, arms raised. 'Come on!' he yelled. 'Come on!' He didn't want the fight to be over yet, but he knew already the Zulu's were long gone.

'Fuck me!' grinned Pete.

'Whadda you make of that then?' Dave asked Matt, as he helped him to his feet.

'What a fucking result!' Pete gave Bovver a brief hug of thanks, a big grin plastered on his face.

'You were a fucking maniac, Matt,' laughed Dave. 'Fair play, son. There's plenty who would've bottled it and done a runner. Good for you, I'm proud of you.' Pete stepped back over at this point, chest rising and falling as he got his breath back.

'Who was he, then?'

'Who?' frowned Matt.

'The geezer you was just fighting.'

'Jeremy Van fucking Holden,' smiled Matt, wiping his bleeding nose.

'You done yourself proud, mate,' smiled Pete.

'Now we've all stopped kissing each other's arses, just gotta point out. See the first punch he threw?' Pete laughed, cocking his head to stare at Matt. 'Little bit on the feminine side,' summed up Dave.

'What?' said Matt.

'A bit gay,' smiled Pete.

'Little bit gay.' Swill bounded over.

'Larry Grayson!' he laughed. 'Larry Grayson.' Then, he demonstrated Matt's punches. Bovver shook his head, already bored with the 'Let's Love The American,' act.

'Come on, yous all wanna get pinched?'

'Come on, let's push 'im out,' smiled Dave, and they followed Bovver down the street.

* * *

The house was quiet when Pete, Bovver, Dave and unfortunately Matt arrived back at Bov's.

'Emma?' he called, entering the kitchen. He gazed at the knife, pinning a piece of paper to the counter, and for a moment, he thought it was from Emma. He ripped it from the knife, eyes widening when he read it.

_I'd be careful if I were you, Bov. Things happen to people you love, before you can stop it. I'll be waiting. Hatcher._

'What is it?' asked Pete, moving over. Bovver dropped the note, racing out the room and into the bedroom. The door bounced off the wall with a bang, and Emma rubbed her eyes, sitting up.

'Whoisit?' she mumbled, yawning and looking up at Bov. She smiled. 'You're home!'

'You're alive,' he replied, moving over to the bed and pulling her into a hug. He kissed her neck, cheeks, and lips. She giggled.

'What's the matter?'

'Get dressed, we're taking you to Pete's,' he said. Emma nodded, her smile faltering when she saw the dark look on his face. Bovver got off the bed, moving back into the kitchen, where Dave was now reading the note.

'Pete, Emma can stay at yours for a bit, yeah?' he asked, gazing hard at the long knife stuck in the counter. He moved over, yanked it out and put it in the drawer.

'Sure,' said Pete, a hard look in his eyes.

'What's going on?' asked Matt, trying to read the note. Bovver snatched it away, a scowl on his face.

'If you dare say anything about this note…' he threatened. Matt nodded, gazing at the mark where the knife had been, and then at the floor.

'Hatcher was here,' muttered Dave, shaking his head slightly. Bovver rubbed his face, before swearing under his breath.

'I gotta see Terry,' he muttered, pushing past them and out the front door.

* * *

'Why the fuck did you let her go 'ome by herself?' hissed Bovver, the note crumpled in his hand. He leant against the bar towards Terry, a furious look on his face.

'Before I could say out, she left,' replied Terry, a cautious look in his eyes.

'Fucking look at this, read it,' he snarled, thrusting the piece of torn paper at Terry. He sighed and shook his head.

'I've read it, Bov. Reading it again won't make it any different.'

'Pete!' muttered Bov, turning to his mate. 'You understand. Hatcher was so close to her tonight. She was practically passed out. He has a fucking knife!' Pete registered the panic in his friends face.

'Bov, calm down. We'll keep watch of her,' said Dave.

'We were supposed to be watching 'er!' He ran a hand through his hair, before shutting his eyes to calm himself down. 'Where's the Yank?'

'He's with Emzie now,' replied Swill.

'Right, don't tell her 'bout this note, or 'bout Hatcher, okay? She don't need to know.' Pete nodded, before placing his hand on Bov's shoulder.

'It'll be okay, alright,' he said. Bovver looked up, searching his face for the answers he needed to his so many desperate questions, and with a sigh, nodding. He'll kill to keep her safe. He was sure of that.

''Ave a drink, mate,' said Ned. Bovver nodded, leaning against the bar and putting his face in his hands.

'I don't wanna loose 'er,' he muttered, hardly audible. Pete placed a hand on his shoulder.

'Trust us. We'll keep 'er safe,' he said.

After fidgeting in his seat for ten minutes, Pete finally announced that him, Bov and Dave should go and pick up Emma and Matt. Bovver still didn't trust the Yank with Emma and was impatient to get her away from him. Pete unlocked the door, and Bovver stepped inside, freezing on the spot. Matt was knelt in between Emma's legs, holding her hand.

'What's going on?' snapped Bovver, eyes hard on Matt. He quickly got to his feet.

'I was just-' he began.

'Touching up my bird?' snarled Bovver, stepping forward. Pete grabbed his arm, as Emma got to her feet.

'Bovver! As a matter-of-fact, I cut myself, so he put a plaster on it!'

'Fucking stay away from her!' He snapped, ignoring Emma, and straining to get out of Pete's grip. Dave moved forward, taking Emma's hand and leading her out the room and into Pete's bedroom. 'Why the fuck were you stood with 'er like that! Gazing up at 'er?' He successful shook of Pete, striding forwards and shoving Matt backwards.

'I wasn't!' said Matt, still shocked at the turn of events. Bovver stalked towards the bedroom, slamming open the door and glaring at Emma.

'Are you sleeping with him?!' he demanded. He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips, but the thunderous expression remained.

'Excuse me?!' she asked, getting to her feet. Dave stepped away, looking apprehensive. 'Do you really think I'm sleeping with him? After everything we've been through, that I'd just ditch you for some Yank! It's not me who couldn't last two months and had to jump in the knickers of some slut!'

'What the fuck you talking about?' he shouted back.

'I'm talking about Lauren! She told me how the kiss at the pub that night I came back, wasn't the first! She told me how you had been sleeping together for those two months!'

What the fuck?

'That's not true!'

'How do I know? Because you say so? Well, I said I don't sleep with Matt. Trust goes both ways you know!'

'You seem to like him much more then me, Emma!' he raged.

'Maybe you don't know me at all then, Bovver! Why don't you go back to Lauren, seeing as you prefer to spend much more time with her anyway! It's over!' she hissed, before storming past him. Bovver stood there, stunned, as the tense silence settled between them. Over? The word stung.

'Bov, mate. What were you thinking?' asked Dave, frowning at his old friend. Bovver just shook his head. What _had_ he been thinking? Accusing her of cheating, like that. And what was this shit with Lauren? He would never fucking go near her, and now everything had kicked off. He slumped on the edge of Pete's bed, as the man in question stepped in, looking awkward.

'She went right, if you're thinking of following her,' he said, glancing at Dave. Bov shook his head.

'She won't want to fucking see me now,' he said, giving a groan of defeat. 'Are we… over?' he asked, looking up at Dave. The older man nodded slowly.

'I think the words 'It's over' kinda-'

'Fuck sakes.' Bovver got to his feet, rubbing his eyes. 'I need to get outta here. If she comes back…'

'You need to talk to 'er, Bov,' said Pete. Bovver nodded, before moving out the bedroom and past Matt, who was sitting in the living room, nervously shifting when Bovver pasted. He ignored the Yank, instead walking to the door and walking out. He didn't know what to do. He had fucked up bad. Bovver went to the park, sitting down on a bench, remembering the last argument they had had here. Brushing away the angry tears, he shook his head. He'd have to make it up to her. If they messed up now…. He never wanted to mess up with her.

Getting to his feet, he left the depressing place, and walked off down the road, towards the petrol station just in town. He wasn't concentrating, almost getting hit by a car when crossing the road.

'Drunken cock!' yelled the driver out the window. Bovver ignored him, grabbing a bunch of flowers, and moving into the shop.

* * *

Bovver unlocked the front door. The house was in darkness. He locked it behind him, before moving through the living room, kitchen, and bathroom. He opened the bedroom door, feeling relieved to see her curled up in the middle of the bed, but a surge of guilt overcame him when he saw tears on her cheeks, glittered from the moonlight seeping through the curtains. He stepped inside, and shut the door behind him.

'I bought yous some flowers,' he said, quietly. Emma didn't look at him, her fingers running up and down her elephant's trunk. 'Emma?' he tried. She wiped her eyes.

'Are you sleeping with Lauren?' she whispered.

'No, Emma, I swear,' he said, stepping closer to the bed and holding out the flowers. Emma sat up, taking them and running her finger over a petal.

'Thanks,' she muttered, before placing them in front of the elephant. A moment passed, before she asked, 'Do you love me?' She finally met his eyes, green and watery.

'Yes!' he said.

'Then why don't you trust me?'

'I do, Emma. It's the fucking Yank I don't trust.'

'And what about Lauren?'

'Nothing is going on between me and Lauren! I would never touch her, not even if I was fucking desperate.' Bovver placed his hand on her knee. 'I fucked up bad,' he said.

'Yes, you did,' she replied, a slight scowled coming to her face. Bovver cupped her cheek before brushing away the tear with his thumb.

'I trust you,' he murmured, leaning forwards and pressing his lips against her. She stayed still beneath his touch, and he sighed, breaking apart. 'Emma. Please. I'm sorry I blamed you. For fuck sakes….' He trailed off, shaking his head softly. Emma reached up slowly, touching the half healed cut above his eye. She moved forward, before kissing him back, lips as soft as her skin.

'I forgive you,' she murmured, and it was enough for him.

Bovver pushed her gently onto her back, his hands moving to tug off her shirt. She pulled away, as he pulled it over her head. Emma gazed up at him, as he unzipped his parka, dumping it on the floor. Emma yanked him back on top of her, her legs encircling his waist and bringing his arousal closer to her heat. He kissed her jaw, and below her ear. Then he sucked gently on her shoulder, on one of the many spots that aroused her. Emma moaned thrusting her hips into his. Bovver's hands moved to her skirt, pulling it above her waist, as she ground her hips again. He shut his eyes and tried to concentrate on the matter at hand, and not allow his sex drive to get the better of him. His fingers ran along the lace of her underwear, slipping inside. She let out a small gasp. 'Bovver…' she murmured, gripping the pillow with her other hand.

The sex went on through the night; faster, and harder, and slower, and gentle; her nails digging deep in his shoulders, his teeth grazing the skin of hers.

'You're forgiven, by the way,' she said, rolling on her side to gaze at him. Bovver placed a hand on the damp skin of her waist, lips kissing a hickey on her shoulder.

'Sorry,' he mumbled, glancing up at her. Emma smiled.

'Its fine,' she shrugged, trying to look at it. He met his lips with hers, before lying back and shutting his eyes.

'For everything,' he said, after a moment.

'It's fine,' she repeated, a smile spreading on her lips, as she rested her head against his chest. 'Matt isn't my type anyway. If I was going to cheat on you, it would so be someone like Keith.'

Bovver smiled.

* * *

**END NOTES: Aww, a slightly sweet ending, but will it last? By the sounds of my notes for chapter nine, obviously not...**


	9. Old Enemies

**AUTHORS NOTE: This chapter is dedicated to Signalfire, for giving me loads of encouragment for my story, and helpful advice! Thanks!  
This might not be a great chapter, but bare with it, as it's really the set up for the next chapter! Oh, and please review!**

* * *

Anything, but Ordinary

Chapter Nine

Old Enemies

Bovver woke, stretching out in the bed. Emma rolled onto her side with a sigh. She looked so peaceful and perfect. Bovver brushed her cheek with his fingers, wondering how he could ever have shouted at her like that. He was a fucking mug. Placing a soft kiss on her lips, he roiled out of bed, grabbing his work trousers and pulling them over his hips. He did up his belt, picking his shirt off the dresser and sliding it over his arms.

'Do you have to go?' asked Emma. Bovver turned to find her gazing up at him.

''Fraid so,' he sighed, doing up his buttons. Emma crawled over, kneeling up and bringing him down on her.

'Really?' she asked. Bovver laughed, kissing her on the lips, his tongue gaining entrance in her mouth.

'Really,' he replied, kissing her once more on the nose, before getting up and casting around for his tie. He found it, coiled like a snake on the floor. Picking it up, he pulled it round his neck and did it up.

'Trainers are in the kitchen,' Emma murmured, snuggling back into the warm covers.

'I'll see you later, babe,' he smiled, glancing at her still form before leaving the room.

'Bye!' she called and he moved into the kitchen, tugging on his trainers. After grabbing his keys, he left the house and moved down to the bus stop. It took twenty minutes if he walked, but the grey clouds overhead didn't look promising. He hoped they would hold off for the Manchester match on Saturday. The bus rolled to a stop and he got to his feet. Taking a seat at the back with the rest of the miserable arse bastards going to work, he pulled out his mobile, flicking through the pictures; mostly of Emma dancing, or trying to cook, or laying in bed. There was one pictures of her sleeping, pale and untouched and beautiful, and Bovver found himself thinking how lucky he was to even have her.

* * *

'Stuart!' beamed Jonathon, the manager, leaning over Bov's desk. 'Nice to see you!'

'You too,' he mumbled, not meeting the older mans eye.

'Can I have a little word in my office?' Silently, Bovver followed him towards a door at the end of the room. Jonathon shut it behind him. 'Take a seat,' he smiled. Bovver moved over, sitting on the hard wooden chair and staring hard at the manager.

'What do you want?' he asked.

'I just wanted to know whether you will be in on Saturday. I heard there's a West Ham match, and I know how much you love your football…'

'No, I won't be 'ere.'

The smile of Jonathon's face faded and he sighed, looking serious. 'I've been having a little think about the hours you are suppose to work, and the hours you do work,' he began, meeting Bov's eyes and not letting go. 'I've decided, that instead of firing you like someone else would, to give you a choice. You can either go onto the part-time hours, or quit.' Bovver clenched his jaw, stopping himself letting go of the string of swear words he wanted to let out, and exhaling.

'I'll go part-time,' he muttered. Jonathon grinned.

'Alright, you can finish this day, and get a days pay. Then, next time you come in, you start part-time.' Bovver nodded, getting to his feet and leaving the room.

* * *

Bovver was still in a foul mood as he pushed open the door to the Abbey, feeling his day get much fucking worse as his gaze rested on Matt, sat in his spot at the table. Again. Shaking his head, and knowing he couldn't be fucked with all this, he turned his back and walked out.

'Bov, wait!' he heard Emma yell, and he only stopped when he heard her follow him out.

'I'm not fucking staying in there. Look at them all, licking his arse,' he said, trying to keep his temper down. He didn't want another argument.

'Bovver, please. Don't start this again, you're being childish.'

'Stay with him then. I have to go somewhere,' he shrugged, thinking of paying a visit to Hatcher about the note.

'No, I wanna come with you!' Emma said. Bovver's face went hard, and he shook his head.

'Emma, you really can't. It's dangerous, where I'm going.'

'Dangerous?' she said, a slight smile on her lips.

'Emma, I'm being serious,' he growled. Emma simply folded her arms over her chest, all signs of a smile gone.

'I'm coming,' she said stubbornly.

'For fuck sakes,' Bovver paused. He'd just have to take extra care of her, wouldn't he? 'Alright then, come on.' He moved across the street, to his motorbike, grabbing a helmet and handing the spare to her. Emma pulled it on, as Bovver clipped his on, and climbed onto the bike. He waited as Emma got on. 'Hold on tight,' he muttered, smiling when he wound her arms around his waist, head resting against his back. He took off down the street, and she tightened her grip on him.

'Where are we going?' she yelled.

'Millwall,' he shouted back, turning a corner. The ride was pleasant, the roads pretty empty for London. It didn't take long to get to Millwall, slowing down before he came to a stop still outside a pub. He parked up, and Emma slid off the back, looking down at her skirt.

'You 'ungry?' he asked. Emma nodded, pulling off her helmet. Bovver gazed at the pub across the road, a dark look passing over his face. Tommy would be in there now. It would be so simple to leave Emma here, and go in there and sort him out. Shooing away those thoughts, he took her hand and led her into the café they were parked outside. Emma chose the table near the counter as Bovver went to order.

'How can I help?' asked Swetank, the old owner of this place.

'Two teas,' Bov replied, pulling out his wallet.

'£4.60,' he requested. Bovver handed him the change, before sitting down. They would be in here soon. They'd come and see them, and suddenly it was a stupid idea to bring Emma. He twisted his hands together, before running them through his hair and letting out a deep sigh. Emma stayed quiet, eyes on him the entire time. He looked at the door, jumping when Swetank put the teas on the table.

'Are you alright?' she asked, in a quiet voice.

'Yeah, I'm fine. Just think-' His words were cut off by the jingle of the bell that rung when people walked in, and the shout of, 'Get the fucking chips in!' Bovver's stomach churned, and he stared hard at the table, fists clenched.

'Well, I'll be fucked,' said Tommy Hatcher, and Bovver knew with a sinking feeling that he was talking about him. The chair opposite him was pulled out, and Hatcher sat down. 'Aren't you gunna introduce us, Bovver?' he asked. Bovver didn't say a word, wanting to get out of there with Emma safely. He knew the boys would 'ave him before he even got to the door, and as for Emma… 'Seeing as Bov is so rude, I'll introduce myself. I'm Tommy, Tommy Hatcher. You are?'

'E-Emma Johnson,' she stuttered, voice wavering. Guilt flooded Bovver, and he asked himself again, why the fuck had he bought her?

'Well, nice to meet you.' Bovver could hear the smile in his voice.

'How are you doing, son, all right? Got yourself a bird, by the looks of it, eh?' Tommy chuckled. 'Does she know about my visit?'

Shit. Shit. Shit.

'Visit?'

'I'll take that as a no.'

'Bov?' Emma's voice was full of confusion and worry, and he shrugged. He couldn't explain it to her. He needed to keep her safe.

'Anyway, to more pressing matters,' said Tommy, casually. 'What's all this I'm hearing about your firm gone all fucking international?' Bovver clenched his fists again, a dark look passing in his eyes. Having the Yank around was nothing to do with him, and if he had his way, Matt would be long gone. Tommy leaned forward, eyes narrowed. 'Don't you even fucking think about ignoring me, you little cunt,' he hissed. With a small sigh, Bovver looked up, picking up his cup for something to do, and taking a drink. Tommy held his gaze. 'Now,' the older man smiled. 'I said, what's all this bollocks I'm hearing about you having a little Yank on the firm?'

'It's only temporary,' Bov replied, a surly expression on his face.

'Temporary, eh?' laughed Tommy, before turning to the chatting café. 'Do you think I might be able to get a bit of quiet here? I'm trying to 'ave a fucking conversation!' Emma jumped at the sudden loudness of his voice, and Tommy smiled, placing a hand on her arm. 'Sorry, love,' he said, before looking back at Bovver, who still had his eyes on Emma. 'So, look at you, little Bovver. All grown up now, look, and where's your other little girl?' He looked over Bov's shoulder, at a flat nosed man behind him.

'Petey,' he said.

'Petey? She at home, is she? Trying to get her little toes into the Major's big fucking shoes?'

'I guess we was pretty small back then, son. Back in your day,' Bov growled.

'Pete's a boy,' Emma piped up, still looking confused. 'He don't have boobs.' Bovver shut his eyes, wishing for a fact now, that he had left her at home. Tommy looked at her, no fun in his face now. No one spoke without him asking them to.

'Don't you fucking talk to me like that, you fucking cunt.'

'Oi,' snapped Bov, jumping to his feet. The four men behind him rose as well. 'Don't talk to her like that!' he growled. He wouldn't let any harm come to Emma.

'I'll do what the fuck I want, 'round 'ere Bov. I own 'round 'ere.' Tommy gazed up at Bovver, a manic look on his face. 'I 'ave to see if I can stick the knife somewhere else next time.' Hatcher got to his feet, circling around Emma. He brushed her hair from her shoulder, placing a dirty finger on her pale shoulder. 'Here?' He placed his finger on her collar bone. 'Here?' He placed his finger on her eyelid. 'Here? So many spots, so little time,' he chuckled. Moving away, he kicked the chair aside.

'Don't you fucking touch 'er ever again,' snarled Bovver, storming forwards. Tommy spun around, grabbing Bov's arms when he tried to hit him, fury etched in his face. The two men fell back into the wall, as the flat nosed man jumped forwards.

'Tommy, the Paki's called the Old Bill, mate. We best fuck off.' Tommy and Bov stepped away from each other, each looking like they didn't give a damn whether the police were coming or not.

'I'll see you again,' muttered Tommy. 'Soon, Bov.' He looked over at Emma with a wink, before turning and walking out with his gang. Bovver stood there for a moment, shoulders slumped. Emma got up from her chair, shaking.

'Bov?'

'Out! Out!' yelled the dark-skinned man, moving swiftly over to them. 'This is café, not fight club, out! You banned for life! Banned for life! I call police!' Bovver turned to him.

'Shut the fuck up, we're leaving, alright?' He grabbed the two helmets off the table, and stormed out, Emma on his heels. Without a word, he handed Emma her helmet, stuffing his own on his head and climbing on the bike. Emma only just grabbed hold of him before he was speeding off, just wanting to get out of that place. Get home. Nothing was said on the way home.

There was a squeal as he skidded to a stop outside his flat. Bovver turned, and helped her off, pulling his helmet off as she did hers.

'Are you okay?' he asked, looking at her hard.

'I'm okay,' Emma nodded. She took his hand, leading him towards the block of flats and up the stairs. She unlocked the door, and Bov kicked it shut behind him. They didn't bother with tea, just undressing and climbing into bed. Emma flicked off the light, curling up beside him.

Bovver stared out at the dark room, the night going round and round his head. 'I knew I shouldn't of fucking taken you,' he said, jaw clenched.

'He doesn't seem as bad as Matthews,' she replied softly. 'He don't rape people, does he?'

'No, but that don't mean his little friends won't,' replied Bovver, with more venom than he should have. She could be so naïve at times. He shut his eyes as she stroked the skin of his bare shoulder, a small sigh escaping his lips as she kissed his neck.

'Night,' she whispered, snuggling deep into the covers.

'Goodnight, babe,' he replied, but it would be another couple of hours before he actually fell to sleep.

* * *

Bovver stood beside the photocopier, watching the green light as it moved across the glass, underneath the document he had placed on there. Copy after copy of the document shot out at the side, forming a neat little pile. Lunch soon, he thought, as his stomach rumbled. Manchester match tomorrow. It was gunna be rough, after last year.

'_Come on then, Petey!' yelled Nigel, pounding Pete again and again. Bovver raced forward, thinking the worst, as Pete let out a small groan. Suddenly, the blonde man shifted, reaching out and grabbing the first thing he found; part of a shattered bottle. Pete swung around, slamming the glass in Nigel's face. The bald man gave a scream of pain, staggered backwards, his hands covering his face. _

Now blind in one eye, he wasn't gunna go down without taking Pete with him. Bovver sighed, taking the paper out the photocopier and taking the sheaf of copies, and leaving the room. He placed the documents in a folder, and dumped it on his desk, before grabbing his jacket, frowning when he heard his phone going off, the bubbles tune filling the room. He got a few odd looks, but Bov ignored them as he answered his phone.

'Alright, bruv?'

'Mate, where are you? We need to talk, 'cause you 'ave some fucking explaining to do,' came the pissed voice of Pete.

'What the hell 'ave I done now?' he asked, voice low, as not to attract Jonathon.

'Meet me outside MacDonald's in ten,' he replied, before hanging up. Bovver swore, pocketing his phone and pulling on his jacket. He left the BT Call Center, heading down the road to the local fast food place. He didn't have to wait long as he sat on the wall of MacDonald's, standing up when he saw Pete approaching.

'Alright?' Bovver asked, a wary tone to his voice.

'No, I'm not. Why'd you take her there?' Bovver went still, eyes hardening.

'I don't know what you're talking 'bout,' he said, evasively.

'Don't act stupid with me, Bov. I know you took her up to Millwall. She told Dave.'

'It's none of your fucking business, what me and Emma do!' Bovver protested.

'It's hardly a romantic date; taking her up to see Hatcher,' growled Pete, stepping closer.

'She wasn't hurt!' Bovver stood his ground.

'She could 'ave been.'

'But she wasn't.' Pete sighed, shaking his head.

'That isn't the point, Bov. Anything, and I mean, anything could 'ave happened to her. And it would 'ave been your fault.' He glared at him, none of them willing to back down.

'Where is she?' Bov grunted.

'At the Abbey probably,' Pete replied, rolling his eyes when Bov moved past him.

'Bov, you can't do nothing now...'

'I can try,' he spat, stalking off down the road. Why would she go behind his back and tell the others? Didn't she understand how much shit he was in now? He cut down an alley, Pete still following.

'Bov, you can't shout at her.' He ignored his best mate, walking down the road, and ramming open the Abbey door when he got there.

'Emma!' he growled when he caught sight of her by the bar.

'Yes?' she asked, voice unusually high. Dave stood by her side, stepping slightly in front of her.

'Back off, son, yeah?' he reasoned.

'Fuck off!' he spat, glaring at Emma. 'Why the hell did you tell 'em? Did you know 'ow much shit I'm in?' Emma shook her head.

'You didn't say I couldn-'

'It's called fucking common sense, Emma! Don't you even 'ave that?'

'Oi!' snapped Swill, now on Emma's other side. 'It's you who should be shouted at, keeping stuff from us!'

'It wasn't out bad!' protested Bov. 'We just went for fucking something to eat!'

'Then why are you shouting at me?' Emma said, in a loud voice. Bovver shook his head.

'It's not the fucking point!'

'Don't fucking shout at me!' Emma said, stepping forwards a little. 'What am I supposed to do!?'

'I don't know!' Bovver yelled back. 'I don't 'ave a clue about what's going on in your twisted, crazy little mind, Emma! Go pull wings off a butterfly or something!' He instantly regretted those words, as he registered the hurt look on her face, eyes filling with tears. Pete grabbed his arm, pulling him away. Bovver shook him off, and did the only thing he knew best to do. He walked away from them all, shouldering Matt aside as he did so.

* * *

The house was pretty much abandoned. The windows were boarded up, the front garden overgrown, a burnt out car on the drive. Bovver moved towards it, pushing open the rickety gate and into the back garden, which was just as much as a tip as the front. He tugged the handle of the back door, frowning when he found it to be locked. Raising his foot, he kicked the door a couple of times, until it swung off its hinges, bits of wood scattering over the dirty kitchen floor. He stepped inside, remembering that this was the room in which he had been stabbed. He absent-mindedly touching the place where his scar was, before shaking his head slightly and walking through into the living room. After his mother had died, no one else had moved in. It looked like it had been used as a drug den at some point. Bovver kicked aside a syringe as he entered the living room. The TV was on its side, smashed. A photo of him as a baby was partly burnt. Ignoring all this, he took the stairs, pushing open the door to his bedroom. The bed had been moved to the center of the room. The walls were bare, as he had taken everything when he had left. Climbing onto the bed, he laid down, staring up at the ceiling. He felt a hot wave of tears sting his eyes, and he shut them tight, refusing to let them loose.

_The door open and Paula stepped in, moving over to the curtains and ripping them open. 'Come on, school,' she said, picking up the cup from his bedside table and leaving the room again. Bovver yawned, before sliding out of bed. He blinked, as the morning sun hit his eyes, grabbing his shirt and pulling it on. Music was playing downstairs, and he recognized it as John Farnham- You're the voice; his mothers favourite song. Bovver smiled as he listened to his mother sing, the smell of eggs and toast greeting him as he made his way down the stairs. _

'_Morning,' he said, sitting at the table. Paula ignored him as usual, but Bov didn't care. She had him and he had her and even though the relationship was shit and they hated each other most of the time, no one could enter their little bubble. _

'_Don't forget your Math's homework,' warned Paula, putting the plate in front of him. 'If I 'ave that fat bitch 'round 'ere one more time…' she trailed off, shaking her head as she left the room. Bovver smiled, eating fast as not to miss the bus. After he had eaten, he got up and grabbed his grey hoody, pulling it on, as well as his bag. When he left through the back door, Jacksie gave a yelp and scampered after him._

'_Stay 'ere, ditzy cunt,' laughed Bovver, bending down to scratch the top of his head. _

''_Urry up Bov!' yelled Ned from the top of the drive. Bovver straightened up, shutting the small gate behind him and making his way towards his mate. None of them paid attention to the dark blue car that pulled up outside Bov's house. None of them paid attention to Tommy Hatcher, as he made his way down Bov's drive; the man who would do his best to make Bovver's life hell. _

_No. Bovver and Ned continued to school, not knowing about the new blonde boy, who would make them who they were today. _

**END NOTES:Some of you might recongise the house from WPMB, and this was the morning before Bovver came home to see Hatcher for the first time and all that. Please review, even if you hated it!**


	10. Authors note

**Guys. I'm a bum**

**I'm afraid to say i actually hate what i have done in Anything, but Ordinary. **

**So... i know you'll moan and i'm gunna 'ave to be a little nasty and say i don't care, but all fanfics are on hold until i rewrite most of Emma's Abo and then Bov's and make them right again.**

**So i truely am sorry, but i can't write when i have made a mess of things, that's why i haven't updated much. Cause my writing is all messed up :(**

**Again, a huge huge sorry and a great big hug for you all **

**Claire xxxxxx**


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